Collection of Various Short Stories
by GreatOne
Summary: I have put the remainder of my short stories here. Most are H/L, some are funny, some are dark. Most were written from various 'challenges'
1. A Test of Love

The following collection of short stories are mostly Han and Leia. Many of them were written because of 'challenges', but not all. Some are supposed to be funny, some are dark, some are sappy. But I have put them ALL up, the good, the bad, and the ugly!

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**A Test Of Love  
**

Endor, the morning after the Death Star destruction.

He could sense her distress, even from a distance. Han had been rescued, and the Rebellion had prevailed, so the cause of her distress could only be one thing - Vader. Luke felt a twing of guilt, knowing he was the one that had revealed this truth to his new-found sister. So he made his way through the forest, searching her out, unaware he was being followed.

She was sitting on a small boulder, tossing tiny sticks into a picturesque stream when he found her. "Leia?" he said softly, not wanting to startle her.

The dark-haired Princess twisted her head so she could look at her brother. "Good morning, Luke," she said, forcing a smile on her face. "You're sure up early."

"Can I sit down?"

Leia scooted over a little, making room on the rock for Luke to sit. Reaching over, he took her hand gently. "I know what's bothering you -" he started out.

"No," Leia interrupted. "No, it's fine. I'm fine. Really."

"Not really," he returned. "You can talk to me about this, sister. I'm in the same situation as you are."

She shook her head. "It's not the same."

"How? He was my father, too."

Glaring, Leia stood up and moved away from him. "I don't understand how you can be so... _accepting_ about this! He was a monster, not a father!"

"You're not thinking rationally yet about this," Luke replied calmly. "I've tried to tell you before. He saved me, Leia. He died saving my life, and he asked me to tell you that I was right - he still did have good in him."

"A death-bed conversion to being a good guy? How convenient. Criminals in prison claim they've changed too, just to get released. It's hardly ever true, either."

"But it is true sometimes," Luke pointed out. "Why did he save my life? He could have let the Emperor kill me."

"How do you expect me to know how his twisted mind worked?" Leia shot back, shaking with anger.

"You can't hate, Leia," Luke said softly.

"Why?" Leia shouted. "Because I'll turn out just like him? Just like our father...Darth Vader?"

Luke stood up and tried to put his arms around his sister, but she pushed him away. "Don't try to make me feel better about this, Luke. I'll never feel better. He destroyed my world. He tortured me! And he tortured Han."

"Have you told Han?" Luke questioned gently.

"No! And I don't plan to, either." Leia wrapped her arms tightly around herself, staring at the ground. Then she looked up sharply. "Don't you dare tell anyone about this. It's our secret, and I intend to take it to my grave."

"It'll be worse if it gets out later, and then the entire galaxy thinks we're hiding something from them."

Leia put her hands to her face, and again Luke went up to her and held her. This time she didn't push him away. "He'll leave me if he finds out," she whispered, so softly he could barely make out the words. "I couldn't bear that, Luke. I've already lost so many people I love."

The young Jedi could feel the emotional pain and fear in his sister's senses. He was about to tell her that she was wrong, that Han would not leave her, when a rustling noise sounded from behind him. Luke turned around and was startled to find Han Solo standing a few feet away, near a tree, his expression that of shock and horror. So focused on the turmoil of his sister's emotions that he had not even sensed the familiar presence of his friend. Before Luke could speak, the Corellian turned and fled into the forest. Carefully, he looked back at his sister, only to see the same expression on her face that had been on Han's - shock and horror.

"He heard us....." she said, her voice tight.

"It appears he did," Luke agreed. "You need to talk to him about this."

"I don't think I can."

"Then you'll fulfill your own prediction, and he _will_ leave you."

* * *

Han wasn't sure how, but somehow he'd found his way back to his ship. Darth Vader! Luke and Leia's father! It just couldn't be true, even if he'd heard the words from Leia's own mouth. _I shouldn't have followed_... He shook off the thought. No, he hadn't meant to eavesdrop, only find out where Leia had disappeared to, and it was only logical that Luke knew where she was. That twin-thing. That Force twin-thing. They got the Force from their father.... Vader!

Han sat down on his bunk and shut his eyes. The terrible images from Bespin swam back into focus. The pain, the fear, the endless mental and physical anguish of the carbonite. Han could not reconcile that monster with even being human, much less the biological father of the woman he loved, and the young man he considered his friend.

The impulse to run away swept over him in a rush, and he struggled against the feeling. He thought back to the overheard conversation. Had they always known? By Leia's upset voice, Han guessed that she hadn't known for very long, but he wasn't sure about Luke. Luke had sounded so calm, and what was the word Leia had used? Accepting. Which was odd, considering that his hand had been cut off by Vader's lightsaber.

Han stood up and paced his small room. He felt torn in two. Suddenly, Luke's desertion and the decision to go with Vader made sense, and Han felt his anger and hurt growing. Did Luke consider Vader more important than the success of the mission? Apparently so.

What was even more painful was Leia's declaration that she had no intention of telling him the truth. She didn't trust him, and if she didn't trust him then there was no hope for the future. Han didn't consider himself an expert in love, but his past had taught him that trust was by far the most important ingredient in a relationship. Without trust, love would turn brittle, and eventually shatter into pieces that could not be mended.

***********

Leia and Luke approached the _Falcon_ slowly. Luke could feel the growing apprehension in his sister with each step they took. "He's going to be upset," Leia said, looking at the lowered ramp.

"Yes, he is."

"What am I going to say to him?"

"The truth, Leia. You tell him the truth."

"He'll hate me."

"Maybe," Luke replied, and Leia looked at him sharply, fear radiating from her eyes. "He already knows, Leia. You can't undo that, either."

Taking a deep breath, Leia left her brother and walked up the ramp.

"Han?" she called into the quiet of the ship. For a long moment there was no answer, then the ex-smuggler stepped around the bend, putting his hand against the wall as if he needed support. "We need to talk," she told him.

"Apparently," was his dry response.

"You had no business listening to a private conversation," she said, suddenly feeling defensive.

"I didn't - " _Mean to_. He was cut off, unable to finish the sentence.

"You certainly did!" Leia said, indignantly. It felt much better to be on the offensive, to be able to delay the inevitable discussion about Vader. An argument about eavesdropping she could handle.

"I was only -" _Worried about you_.

"You only followed Luke because of your paranoid jealousy! I told you he's my brother. Didn't you believe me?"

"I believed you," he whispered. "This isn't about Luke."

Leia dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands with a sob. "I.... I... can't go on...."

Quickly, Han knelt next to her, taking her into his arms, his own feelings of shock and hurt disappearing. It was nothing compared to her pain. "Yes, you can. You're strong, Princess. You're compassionate and caring. You're not like... him. Not one bit. You're the same person you've always been, and nothing will change that."

"I'm sorry..."

"No," Han said, shaking his head. "Don't apologize. This is nothing to apologize for."

She looked at him, wiping the tears away, and giving a wry grin. "I was trying to apologize for not trusting you."

Han sat back, leaning against the wall. "Well, then," he drawled. "I suppose that's okay." He looked over at her. "How long have you known this?"

"Since yesterday. Right before Luke left to face him."

"That's what you couldn't talk about." It wasn't a question.

She answered it anyway. "Yes."

"And why you needed me to hold you."

"Yes."

Han reached over, gently pulled Leia into his embrace and held her.

**THE END**


	2. Leia Does Bacon

**Leia Does Bacon** - Pre-ESB

"That's not healthy, you know," Leia commented as she entered the hold of the _Millennium Falcon_, where Han was busy frying bacon and sliced nerfsteaks, mixed with caylee eggs. Sometimes it annoyed the Princess to no end that while the rebels ate rations, Solo always brought back fresh food with him from his supply runs for the rebellion.

Han spared the Princess an amused glance over his shoulder. "Since when do I care about healthy?"

"You should," she replied, trying not to argue, while at the same time realizing she had already started another fight with the smuggler. "You won't always be young, and that greasy Corellian food will catch up with you someday."

"Hmm," Han turned back to his cooking. "Why is it that bad things are always what catches up, and the good things never do?"

"Good things?"

"Like a certain fancy Princess I know. Now that's something I'd _like_ to catch up with me. I won't even run fast."

"Dream on, flyboy," Leia said lightly, while at the same time feeling a little pleased he considered her a 'good thing'. Now that she was smelling the food, her stomach betrayed her by growling - and loudly, too.

"Somebody sounds hungry," Han grinned at her as poked a piece of the bacon, waving it in her direction. The bacon grease dripped on the floor.

"See what I mean?" Leia asked, pointing down at the spots on the floor. "All that fat is sticking to your guts and clogging your arteries. You should eat salads, and fruit."

Han made a face. "Salads? Salads have green stuff in them," he protested.

"Green stuff is good for you."

"Well, it tastes like bantha chow. Healthy food is all tasteless or disgusting. The people that eat that stuff only _think _they live longer, 'cuz they're miserable all the time and can't enjoy real food. Like bacon." With that, Han dished the food into a large serving platter. "Why do you care if I live long, anyway? Aren't you always telling me to drop dead?"

"I've never told you that!"

"You think it."

It was hard to argue that point. Sometimes she did think it, even if only during their most heated arguments.

"Are you sure you don't want some? The food, I mean," Han added with a wink.

The Princess felt her face get warm. "I know what you mean, and no, I don't want some." Of course, she _did _want some of the greasy food, but there was no way she could admit that now - not after chastising Solo for making it in the first place. "I think I'll go. I only came to see if you got the supplies we needed from Dantooine." She also wasn't about to admit she was glad he was back safely, and that she worried about him when he was gone. He didn't need to know that. His ship wouldn't be big enough to hold his ego.

Solo slid into the seat by the game table, and took a big bite of the steaming mixture of food. "Mmmm...good. You sure you don't want any? I cook pretty good, if I do say so myself."

"It doesn't surprise me a bit you'd say so yourself." When he gave a mock-hurt look, Leia caved in and slid in the seat across from Solo. "Dish me some up, nerfherder."

Looking pleased with himself, Han scooped a large portion in a plate and handed the dish to the Princess. "Eat up, your Highnessness."

Leia took a small mouthful. It was surprisingly good, and she started quickly eating the heaping mound. It was soon gone, and Leia shoved the plate back at Solo. "More."

"More? But you already..."

"I said.. MORE! What part of more don't you understand?"

Eyes wide, Han heaped in another small portion.

"Are you deaf? I want MORE!" Leia yelled, grabbing the spoon from the Corellian and scooping in a huge second portion. The Princess soon had that polished off as well.

Han could only watch in awe as the petite lady ate enough to put Chewie to shame. He was so amazed, he barely touched his own platter.

"Are you finished?" Leia asked.

"What?"

"Are you finished? With your food?" She pointed at Solo's half eaten food.

"Uh... yeah. I guess."

"Good." Reaching across the table, she pulled Solo's dish toward herself, and promptly ate his leftovers. Sighing, Leia leaned back, and loosened her belt. "Ahh. Now that was good eats."

_Eats?_ "Are you feeling okay?" Han asked, worried. Maybe the grease had gone to her brain arteries.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be feeling alright?"

"Well, you sure ate enough."

"Are you calling me a PIG?" Leia yelled standing up. "You invited me! Or have you forgotten?'

"N...no. I invited you," Han stuttered.

"Don't you forget it, either!" she said, as she started to walk away in a huff. Suddenly she turned around. "Don't you dare tell anyone I ate all that garbage you call food! If you say anything, anything at all... I'll..."

"You'll what?"

"I'll deny it! No one will believe you, anyway. This miss is no piggy!"

"Fine. I won't say anything," Han groaned, wondering if Leia had lost her mind. "Your holiness?"

"What now?"

"Do you want to come over tomorrow for dinner?"

"Are you cooking grease, or healthy?"

"Grease."

"Then of course moi will be there."

**THE END**


	3. Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

**Desperate Times, Desperate Measures  
**  
This takes place after Chewie's death, and before Han left Leia in the NJO

AU

Leia Organa-Solo put her back against the wall and slowly slid down to a seated position, listening as her husband banged loudly and repeatedly on the bedroom door. She heard something crash to the floor, and listened as he let loose with a string of Corellian curse words, many of which were directed at her.

"You can't keep me locked up forever," he finally shouted through the thick door.

"I can keep you locked up for a long time, though," she replied back, turning his blaster over in her hand, and fighting down her doubts. This wasn't a spur-of-the moment decision. She'd carefully removed all weapons from the master bedroom, and anything else he could use to either escape or possibly inflict harm to himself. Even the mirrors had been removed in both the bedroom and attached master bathroom. "Maybe long enough for you to come to your senses."

"So you've decided to starve me to death instead of nag me to death?" Han shot back, his voice brittle with sarcasm.

"I've stocked the room with water and rations. There is enough to last several months."

"MONTHS!?"

"If that's what it takes, Han," Leia replied wearily. "I love you too much to let you leave."

"Really? And locking me up is the way you demonstrate that supposed love?"

"I recall you once kidnapped me to stop me from making a huge mistake."

He was silent for only a short moment before responding, "Kidnapping you was my big mistake, Princess. I should've let you marry your true love, and we'd both be a lot happier."

Leia swallowed hard. "You don't mean that."

The ex-smuggler gave a harsh laugh. "I mean it. Chewie would still be alive if I'd had enough sense to walk away when you wanted to go to Hapes."

"You can't possibly know that," Leia snapped out, anger competing with hurt. "A million things might have happened in the past twenty years that could have caused either Chewie's death... or your own."

"I'll figure out a way to get out of here, Leia."

"Maybe. But I doubt it. I had Ghent and Wedge help me with this project." Leia could sense Han's growing concern through the wall. "I'll talk to you later, Han," Leia said as she stood up and walked down the corridor, determinedly ignoring his renewed curses.

****

Five days later...

After two days, Han's outbursts of pounding and swearing suddenly ceased. Grateful for the peace and quiet, Leia went about her business, always making certain one of her Noghri bodyguards were in the apartment when she left. But now, three days of complete silence later, Leia was getting annoyed all over again.

"Han? HAN? I know you can hear me," Leia said, her shoulder leaning against the doorframe. "I know you're awake." More silence. "Tomorrow, I'm having a psychiatrist come over and have a session with you."

That remark finally stirred a reaction. "I'll tell him you're holding me against my will. This is illegal."

Leia actually laughed. "Since when do you care about legalities?"

"I've had a hang-over for the past five days."

"Good. You need to get all that alcohol poison out of your system. It's clouding your mind and your judgment."

"Has it occurred to you that I want my mind clouded?"

"It's not fair to Anakin," Leia said quietly. "Your behavior is hurting him above the pain he's already feeling for Chewie. It's not fair to him, Han. It's not fair to any of us." She could sense his discomfort, and hoped that somehow she was finally getting through to him.

"I ain't talking to a head doctor."

"I'll make a deal with you."

"What kind of deal?" Han asked, sounding suspicious.

"You talk to this doctor... and I mean actually _talk _to him once a day for an hour, for one week, and I'll let you out of this room."

A long silence followed as Han mentally debated this offer. "What if he doesn't like what I have to say?"

"As long as you stay focused, and the discussion is about Chewie or Anakin or me... or your lousy childhood, I don't care what the doctor tells me after that. A deal is a deal. How about it?"

"Fine," Han grumbled.

Leia smiled.

****

A week later

Leia pressed the keypad and nervously watched as the bedroom door opened. She remembered the doctor telling her that Han had been sullen and uncooperative during the first three sessions, and that he hadn't shaved or put on clean clothes for the visits. Then, during the last two sessions, Han had washed up and spoken at length about his friendship with Chewbacca, and his guilt over the Wookiee's death. Leia wasn't certain if this happened because Han finally _wanted_ to talk about his feelings, or that he was afraid she would extend his lock-up if he didn't 'pretend' to open up.

Han was standing at the doorway, dressed in clean clothes and his face freshly shaven. Other than looking somewhat pale, he looked like himself. They both regarded each other for a moment without speaking.

"I should be mad at you," Han finally said.

"Are you?"

"When I kidnapped you and took you to Dathomir, you were mad at me," he pointed out.

Leia gave a small grin. "Only on the outside. Inside, I was relieved."

"I guess that's how I feel, too. Relief that you didn't give up on me. Relief that you cared enough to stop me from leaving you, which would've been the biggest mistake of my life." He held out his arms, and Leia melted into his embrace. "Thank you, Princess," he whispered into her hair. "I love you."

"I know you do," she answered, her face buried in his shirt. "And that's why I kidnapped you."

"You know," Han mused thoughtfully. "When I kidnapped you, I cooked nice meals for you. All you gave me for two weeks was water and dry ration bars."

The Princess drew back in shock and looked up at her husband. "Cook? Me? Han, I only wanted to kidnap you... not torture you!"

They both laughed, and despite his new freedom, Han willingly spent the rest of the day with Leia, locked up in their bedroom.

**THE END**


	4. Endor Engagement

**Endor Engagement**

Endor, right after the destruction of the Second Death Star. (for those of us who hated a five year wait for H/L to marry)

Han watched from the small wooden balcony as Luke and Leia talked quietly a short distance away. The words "he's my brother" had come as such a shock, and relief, to the Corellian he could still barely believe them. There was no longer any need to feel jealous since Luke and Leia were family. And Han desperately wanted to be part of that family. He had loved Leia for so long it felt incredibly natural to be able to say the words, _I love you_, to her. He knew he had loved her from the beginning - it had just taken so long for both of them to admit their true feelings for each other, instead of hiding behind sarcasm and heated words. Han wanted to be with Leia tonight, but he knew that she needed time with Luke as well. So with a sigh, he turned and headed for the _Falcon_. After all, Lando had told him it needed repairs, and there was no time like the present. He would never be able to sleep tonight anyway, he was so wound up.

* * *

The Princess turned to look as Han walked off toward his ship. The last thing she wanted to do was to exclude him, but there was so much she needed to discuss with Luke, and she felt torn between the two men she loved.

"We can talk tomorrow, you know," Luke said quietly as he watched the Corellian leave.

"He feels like an outsider," Leia told her brother with a shake of her head. "I think he always does, no matter where he goes, or who he is with, with the sole exception of Chewie."

Luke nodded his agreement. "I wish there was some way we could make him feel like he belongs."

A smile spread over Leia's face. "There is a way, Luke." She turned and gave her brother a hug. "I'll talk to you later."

The young Jedi frowned in confusion as his sister hurried off after Han.

* * *

"Han?"

The voice of the Princess surprised Solo as he surveyed the damage to his precious ship. "Hey," he answered with a quick smile. "I thought you wanted to spend some time with Luke."

"I do," she admitted. "But I want to spend time with you, too."

Solo's smile grew larger. "That's nice to hear." He stepped toward her and put his arms around the woman he loved.

Leia embraced him back tightly. _I want you to belong, Han. To me_, she thought fiercely. Han pulled back slightly from her tight hug and kissed her deeply and slowly, leaving her breathless and nearly forgetting what she intended to say. Gasping for air, Leia drew back. "Han, I need to ask you something," she said very formally. The worried expression that crossed his face nearly made her laugh.

"All right."

"I want you to stay with me," she said. "I want you to promise me you'll never leave me. I want a commitment."

"Do you see these General bars, sweetheart?" Han grinned. "Isn't that a commitment?"

"That's a commitment to the _Alliance_," Leia replied somberly. "I want a commitment to _me_."

Confusion flashed across his face. "You know I'm committed to you, Leia. I love you."

"Then prove it," she responded. "Marry me."

For a brief moment, Han felt panic. He had spent his life avoiding the very thing Leia wanted - a lifetime commitment to one woman. But that was then, before he knew what true love was. The panic quickly faded away and was replaced with joy.

"Of course we'll get married," he agreed. "As soon as things settle down, and the Alliance finds a home base...."

"No."

"No?"

"No, not later," she said firmly. "Right now. Tonight."

"Tonight?" he asked, flustered.

Leia put her hands on her hips and frowned. "Do you have other, more pressing plans for tonight?"

"Uh, no."

"Good. Then it's settled." With that, she took his hand and led him back to the large celebration, and in less than an hour there was one more reason to light up the night sky with fireworks.

**THE END**


	5. IT

**IT  
**

In the Great Scheme of Things it hardly mattered. It was only a minor annoyance, really. Something he could - really should - ignore. At least if he had any sense. It surely wasn't worth getting her all worked up about, and if he mentioned it, he was positive she'd get all huffy about it. So he tried, as best as he could, to pretend it wasn't happening. Every day. Every single morning. Without fail. Did he do it to her? Never! Not one time, even! He'd even given little, tiny hints as to how much it irritated him. But for someone as smart as his wife, when it came to this, she was as dense as a duracrete block.

He tried moving to different places, trying to position himself away from his wife, so she couldn't annoy him by doing it. But she just altered her position and still did it. IT WAS SO ANNOYING! But was it worth an argument? Was it worth getting a cold shoulder for who knows how long? Was it worth sleeping on the sofa until he apologized, even though HE didn't do IT to her?

And so he endured. Morning after morning. Week after week. Sometimes he could feel his hands start to tremble, his breath get short, his vision become unfocused. He wanted just to thrust it in her hands and say, _take it already! Just give it back when you're done with it!_

But that would be allowing her to win. And this was war now. The principle of the thing. Of course, she had no idea how incredibly ANGRY this made her husband. For someone with supposedly such acute abilities to judge such things, he'd wondered that maybe, just maybe, she knew IT made him LIVID!

And so, once again, this early morning she approached him from behind, intent again on having her way. And once again, he could feel his blood pressure start to shoot up. He felt her long hair dropping forward, tickling the back of his neck, her eyes boring past his skull.

After a few seconds, he tentatively tried to turn it, but she stopped him. "Wait, Han. I'm not done reading this article yet."

"Do you just want to take it?" Han asked through clenched teeth. "I can read it later."

"No, no.... I don't want to interrupt you," she said distractedly, her eyes still reading the morning news flimsy. "Just let me finish this one thing."

Sighing, Han sat back, forced to hold the flimsy in place and wait for Leia to finish commenting on whatever she happened to be reading. A minute later, she nodded. "You can turn the page now. I'm through with that."

Han was tempted to say, _And so am I_, throw the flimsy down, and stalk off in anger. But it just wasn't worth the argument. So he obediently turned the page, and silently fumed as she continued reading IT over his shoulder.

**THE END**


	6. Not If We Both Are Lucky

**Not If We Both Are Lucky**

H/L very very dark Vignette

Set during NJO Hero's Trial- AU

Han threw his clothes into his pack without folding them or caring if they even ended up inside the case. He had to get out before she came back, before they had another confrontation. Back in the good days, before she became President, Han enjoyed their arguments. Especially the making up that always came afterwards. But he could not allow himself to remember the good times. There were no more good times. He should have known better. Everyone in the galaxy said the marriage wouldn't work. It turned out everyone was right, it just took longer to end than anyone thought.

"Han?"

Solo jumped and turned to face his wife. "What?" he asked sharply. He had not been fast enough. She had caught him in the act of packing up and leaving.

"Where are you going?" Leia asked softly.

"Do you care?" Han snapped. "You said you had to leave again, anyway. What do you care where I go and what I do."

"I _have _to go, Han," she responded. "The people need me."

"_Everyone_ needs you, sweetheart," Han said sarcastically. "Everyone but me, apparently."

"That's not fair," she shot back. "I have tried to help you. You've pushed me away, refused all help, except the kind you can find in a bottle!"

"Yeah, it's always my fault, isn't it?" Han answered bitterly. "Never your precious brother's fault."

"Luke? Why are you blaming this on Luke?"

"Not this, but everything else, sweetheart," Han replied as he turned and continued packing.

"What else?" Leia was getting angry now. Han had no right to blame Luke for anything, as far as she was concerned.

Han turned back around, his face contorted in anger, his eyes flashing. "How about the fact my kids don't even know me? They consider _Luke_ their father! And why not? Didn't he raise them, with _your_ blessings? Didn't he pack them off to the middle of nowhere when they were babies, supposedly to protect them? From what the hell I still don't know.. me?"

"Don't be stupid, Han!"

"That's right, I'm stupid," he replied harshly. "And then he hauls them off to Yavin to train them as his ideal Jedi! Why couldn't he train them on Coruscant? Because their stupid father might interfere with their training? He had no right to do what he did! And I was stuck, because what do I know? I'm not a Jedi! I'm just stupid Han Solo!"

"I can't believe you are bring this all up now! If it bothered you why didn't you say something back then?"

"I tried!" Han yelled. "You never, _never_ listened to me! Here, sign this and hit the 'send' key when you find some time!" Han tossed a flat stylus on the bed.

"What is that?" Leia asked suspiciously.

"Our divorce decree," he sneered at his wife. "Don't worry. The only thing I want is the _Falcon_. Everything else is yours anyway. And the kids never really were mine. I am sure they won't care if they never see dear old dad again."

Leia stared in shock at her husband. Even his depression after the death of Chewbacca, she never suspected the depths of his feelings. "Please don't do this Han. I love you," she said begged softly.

"No, Leia," he replied sadly. "The only person that ever really cared for me is dead. Why do you think Chewie's death hit me so hard? If I thought anyone else cared for me, I could have handled it better. You care about Luke. You care about the kids. You care about the galaxy. I have always been last on that long list, sweetheart. And I can't deal with being last anymore."

"You were never last, Han," Leia pleaded, her eyes filling with tears.

"Then why didn't you care enough to arrange a rescue for me when Nil Spaar was holding me prisoner? I checked, Leia. You didn't even make time to send someone after me. But you sure found time to rescue Brother Luke when he got kidnapped by that Dark Jedi kid. Remember? You resigned your Presidency to go find dear Luke," Han answered. "I wouldn't have expected you to resign for me. But I sure would have been happy that you cared enough to ask someone to organize a rescue operation. _Chewie_ came to rescue me. He was the only one who cared."

Leia did not know what to say. She watched as Han packed the last of his belongings and closed the travel pack. She watched as he turned and walked out the door. Before he disappeared from her view she asked, "Will I ever see you again?"

"Not if we're both lucky," Han answered without turning around. He kept walking, never once looking back.

**THE END**


	7. Test Flight

**Test Flight **

Leia slammed the cup down in the sink so hard, it made her sister-in-law jump slightly. From the second Mara had entered the kitchen, she'd known something was bothering Leia, and this just confirmed her suspicions.

"Had a bad night?" Mara asked cautiously.

The Princess spun around to face the red-head. "Do you know what tomorrow is?"

"Um. No?"

"My anniversary!" Leia replied hotly. "Sixteen years. I've been married to that thoughtless nerf for sixteen years!"

"Are you and Han having problems?" Mara questioned, not certain she wanted to hear the answer.

"I didn't think so," Leia responded. "But, apparently, sixteen years of marriage means nothing to that scruffy laser-brain I'm married to. I know sixteen isn't some big galaxy-altering event, but wouldn't you think it means something? That he'd acknowledge our anniversary in some small way? Even just a nice dinner out? But noooo.... he's been working on that stupid ship of his night and day for the past week. He hasn't even thought about me!"

"Maybe he has a surprise planned," Mara suggested.

"Ha! Not a chance. I know him better than I know myself. He's forgotten all about our anniversary."

"You don't really know that."

"Whose side are you on?" Leia snapped.

Mara stood up from her seat, slowly backing out of the room. "Side? I have to pick a side?" When Leia put her hands on her hips and glared, Mara quickly added, "I have to go now... Luke's expecting me."

As she hurried out the door, Leia called out, "Luke would never, ever forget your anniversary!"

* * *

Later....

Luke stopped at the foot of the lowered ramp, staring up into the well-lit interior of the _Millennium Falcon_. "Han?"

A clattering of tools sounded, and a second later Han Solo stood in the doorway, covered in grease and holding a filthy rag. "Hey, kid. What brings you over here?"

The Jedi approached his long-time friend, stopping just inside the entryway. "I just had an interesting conversation with Mara."

"Huh. Is 'interesting conversation' a synonym for an argument?"

"I don't argue with Mara."

Han rolled his eyes. "Sure you don't. And a bantha don't stink, either."

"A doubt one bantha thinks another bantha stinks. They probably think we stink."

"Speak for yourself."

"I didn't come here to discuss body odor," Luke said, sighing.

"Good thing, or I'd start gettin' worried about you."

"Do you know what tomorrow is?"

Han thought for a moment. "The seventh?"

"More specific."

"The seventh day of Amozyn?"

"And?" Luke prodded, thinking he was going to side with Leia in this issue.

"And...." Han started out, frowning. Then his eyes grew wide as he remembered. "KEST! Tomorrow is Amozyn seven! Why didn't you remind me?"

"After sixteen years, I didn't think it was necessary," Luke said dryly. "I guess I was wrong."

"It's not my fault!" Han argued weakly. "The hyperdrive coils went bad, and then I had to order a new unit, and it was back-ordered... and then the stupid company sent me the wrong model so I had to send it back and they kept arguing that I was the one that ordered the wrong part and I'd have to pay a restocking fee before they'd send me the right part so then I had to threaten to send Chewie over to their factory and pull some arms outta sockets before they finally agreed to send me the right part - "

"I doubt Leia is going to care," Luke interrupted. "Mara said she was pretty upset this morning."

Han groaned. "What am I gonna do?"

"I'd suggest getting her a gift, at the very least."

"What kind of gift? She's got more jewelry than she needs, and I've got no idea what to buy clothes-wise."

"I can't really say what to buy her," Luke said. "But you'd better come up with something, or it's going to be a long, cold year until number seventeen rolls around."

* * *

The next morning....

"Han?" Leia called up into the dark interior of her husband's precious ship. "Are you there?" She stomped loudly up the ramp. "You called me out of a meeting, I'll have you know. Fey'lya wasn't pleased a bit that I left."

"Do you really care what that self-inflated Bothan thinks?" Han's deep voice sounded from behind the Princess, making her jump slightly.

"Not really," she replied, grinning despite the fact she was annoyed that he had yet to remember their anniversary. And Leia had no intention of reminding the nerf-herder, either. If he couldn't manage to remember something this important on his own... well, she'd have to think of some appropriate punishment later. "What's the big emergency?"

"I got those hyperdrive coils all installed," Han told her, hitting the 'close' button on the ramp. "And I wanna give the old girl a test flight."

Leia held her temper in check with effort. "Are you telling me this was your big emergency? That meeting was important - "

"They're all important," Han interrupted dismissively.

"And," Leia continued, glaring, "you couldn't test the 'old girl' with Chewie's help? He's your co-pilot, last time I checked."

"Ah, Princess," Han said, shaking his head. "I was talking about you when I said 'the old girl,' not the _Falcon_." When she took a threatening step toward him, Han backed up, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. "Kidding, sweetheart... just kidding." He waved toward the cockpit. "But as long as you're here, let's take a quick spin around the system."

Without waiting for her response, Han turned and headed toward the cockpit, forcing his wife to follow. "Han... I'm not sure I have time for this..."

"Sure you do," he called back over his shoulder. "An hour, tops. They'll never miss you, and when you get back, just blame me."

"I will," she answered, plopping down in Chewie's oversized co-pilot's seat.

The old freighter lifted off, turning and roaring into the blue sky, which soon changed to the inky blackness of space. The planet rotating peacefully below as Han gave a wide turn, and to Leia's surprise, headed further into space. "Where are we going? You said 'a quick spin,'" she pointed out.

"I did, didn't I?" Han agreed. "But scoundrels have been known to lie... or even kidnap beautiful princesses."

"Han! If you wanted to waste the day flying around space, you should have taken Chewie, not me."

The ex-smuggler turned in his seat. "Chewie couldn't help test these new parts if he's watchin' the kids, can he?"

Leia wasn't amused. "Where are you taking me?"

"Bakura."

"Bakura?" Leia spluttered out. This trip was obviously going to take a lot more time than an hour. "Why?"

"Because they have really nice restaurants. And..."

"And, what?"

Han flushed slightly. "And it's our anniversary, and I thought we'd go back to the hotel where we, um, you know... the first time we made love." He smiled at his surprised wife. "And I won't even have to listen to your brother lecture me afterward, either."

"Luke lectured you?" Leia asked, surprised at that admission, and pleased that Han remembered their anniversary after all.

"Yup. Warned me if I didn't take proper care of you, he'd chop me up with his lightsaber."

"He did?"

"Well, maybe not exactly that," Han replied with a snort. "But it was something along those lines. I remember I was sorta miffed at the time, too."

"What did you tell him?" Leia asked, curious.

"I told him I'd never hurt you, 'cuz I loved you," Han said slowly. "And guess what?"

"What?"

"I still do love you, more than anything."

Leia smiled. "More than the _Falcon_?"

"More than my own life. Happy anniversary, Princess."

Leia moved out of the co-pilot's seat, and sat on Han's lap, kissing him long and slow. When she finally drew back, she answered, "Happy anniversary, Han. I love you, darling, but it's a good thing you remembered, or I'd have had to chop you up with my lightsaber."

THE END


	8. Two Lukes

**Two Lukes**

During ANH

Luke Skywalker sat down on the lumpy mattress, exhausted and slightly embarrassed that Solo had baited him with such little effort. "A princess and a guy like me?" What about a guy like... a moisture farmer? Was that any more unlikely? Probably not.

So much had happened in his life in the past few days he could barely keep track. So many losses. His aunt and uncle... the only family he had, had been killed by the Empire. Now, minutes after the jump into hyperspace, Luke could afford the chance to think about his most recent loss, Obi-Wan Kenobi. He'd hardly had time to know the old Jedi, yet his death had struck him deeply. To think, only a few short days earlier, he'd been complaining about how boring his life was to his friends at Anchorhead. If they could only see him now, now that he was... what? Luke held up the silver hilt of his father's lightsaber. What am I? he wondered. A Jedi? A Rebel? Or just a moisture farmer with delusions of grandeur?

He listened down the corridor as Chewbacca bellowed something incomprehensible. A second later the smuggler stuck his head in the room.

"Ya want something to eat, kid?"

Food? That was the last thing on Luke's mind. "No, thank you."

Solo shrugged, and turned to leave. Then turned back to face him. "You don't have to join them, kid. The Rebellion's gonna fail, anyway. You'll just be throwin' your life away."

"I've already lost everything. What's my life?"

"That's all any of us have," the Corellian argued. "You can join me an' Chewie. Smuggling ain't safe, but it'll be a hell of a lot safer than tryin' to shoot down the Death Star." When Luke remained silent, Han added, "You think about it." Then he was gone.

Luke eased himself down on his back, staring at the grease and soot streaked walls of the old freighter. He shut his eyes, picturing himself flying around the galaxy, smuggling spice or alcohol or gemstones or whatever else these cargo holds held over the years. He could visit distant worlds... see the galaxy from one side to the other. Meet hundreds of exotic women.

Maybe Solo was right, and the Rebellion was just a waste of lives, a noble effort doomed to fail. Would it really matter down the long road of time? Governments would always fall. The faces of politicians would be different, the rules altered. And the lives of people like Luke Skywalker, moisture farmer, would always be difficult, no matter who was in charge.

"Maybe I'd make a good smuggler," Luke mused aloud.

A soft laugh startled him, and he sat up quickly, opening his eyes and looking at the face of someone he'd never seen before. The man was almost as old as Obi-Wan had been. At least Luke thought so, since everyone over thirty looked ancient to him, anyway. And this man was dressed in brown Jedi robes. Somehow those eyes were familiar. Blue and intense.

"How... how did you get here?"

"The Force," the man replied, looking around the room. "This ship seems to be trapped in time - it always looks exactly the same."

"Who are you?"

The older man smiled. "I'm you, in about thirty years."

Luke scrambled to his feet. "That's not possible."

"You'll find many things you think are impossible, in fact, are quite possible. If you search your feelings, you will know I'm telling you the truth."

"So, tell me," the younger man challenged nervously. "If you're me, why are you here?"

"To convince you to stay on your path," the man answered. "I remember how tempted I was to take Han up on his offer right after Ben died. Run away from the Rebellion, from responsibility, from what was almost a sure death. But I didn't, and you won't, either."

"No... I guess not," Luke agreed, slowly coming back to his senses and realizing his destiny was with the Rebellion. But if this old man was telling the truth, then he had survived the Death Star, and much more. "Can you tell me about my future?" young Luke asked eagerly.

The older Luke smiled. "What would you like to know?"

"The Princess," he questioned. "Do I stand a chance with her?" He could tell the question made his older version uncomfortable.

"Your destinies are intertwined," the man answered vaguely.

"Come on.... tell me," Luke begged. "Do I marry her?"

"No."

"Oh." His face fell. Of course... Leia was a princess. She'd end up married to a handsome, rich prince after the war.

"No, she doesn't marry a rich prince," his older version replied as if he'd spoken aloud.

"How did you know what I was thinking?" he questioned, astounded.

The older Luke smiled. "I'm you. I know what I was thinking because I remember."

"She survives the war, right?" Luke asked worriedly.

"Leia survives this war, and the wars that follow."

"Wars that follow?"

The older man shook his head sadly. "It seems to be an endless theme, from the beginning of time. Sometimes I have my doubts we will ever break the cycle of hate and fighting."

"Then what's the point?"

"The point is to strive to make ourselves better, and hope someday in the future things will get better."

"But they obviously don't," the younger Luke pointed out. "Maybe Han is right about looking out for number one."

That comment made the older man laugh. "Han liked to play the mercenary-cynic, didn't he?"

"So you're saying he's not?"

"He's a good friend."

Luke thought about that, then concluded, "He stays, right?"

"Your destinies are intertwined."

"You like that sentence, don't you?"

"You will face many hardships and challenges," the older man said. "Just never give up, because the reward is worth the effort."

"Reward? You mean money? The end of the Empire?"

The older man turned and waved, and an image of a woman with red hair appeared, holding the hand of a young boy about seven or eight years old. "No." He shook his head. "I mean love and family." And with those words, the Jedi and the woman and child faded away.

"Luke?" The voice was soft and insistent. "Luke... wake up."

He opened his eyes, looking up in surprise at the beautiful Princess Organa. "I'm awake," he said, unable to keep himself from blushing. Why had he been dreaming about a redheaded woman? Leia had dark brown hair, so he should have been dreaming about her.

"Captain Solo says we're going to be coming out of hyperspace in a few minutes," she informed him, then added in annoyance. "That loud-mouthed smuggler is so full of himself. I'd like to grab a blaster and shoot him."

Luke watched his dream Princess leave and the thought drifted into his mind, _But you won't shoot him... because you're going to marry him_. Shocked, Luke sat up, running his fingers through his blond hair. "Where did that stupid idea come from?"

He struggled to his feet, feeling disoriented as the image of the redhead faded away.

Then he headed toward the cockpit, and his destiny.

**THE END**


	9. Vacation

**Vacation **

"Han?"

The Corellian looked over at Luke from the corner table in a empty hotel bar, where he had spent the late morning, just being bored and watching the corner holo-screen showing a smashball game.

"Mara just commed me, and she's with Leia and they want us to meet them," Luke said nervously.

"Where?"

"She didn't say, but she gave me directions," Luke replied to his brother-in-law.

"This had better not be about shopping," Han warned. "I hate shopping."

It had been a long time since either couple had an actual vacation, and when Leia suggested the idea to Mara, she had been met with enthusiasm. For weeks, the woman had planned this trip to the idyllic planet of Riiouth, a tropical paradise. They had made hotel reservations, organized sightseeing side trips, and generally had a great deal of fun just planning the trip. And as these things often happen, the planning was turning out to be more fun than the actual trip.

First, it had been raining non-stop since they arrived. "Well, this is a tropical island, Leia," Han had remarked to his wife. "It rains a lot in the tropics." The look she had shot him made him decide to keep his mouth shut for a few hours.

Second, the hotel had been under renovations when they had arrived. Instead of vast windows overlooking a blue ocean setting, the lobby had been a mixture of duroboard sheeting and noisy construction droids humming about, and creating a great deal of racket.

Third, the hovercraft rental place had lost their reservation, so instead of a large comfortable hovercraft, the four travelers were crammed into an "economy" size vehicle. They had to hold their luggage on their laps, since the trunk was too small to hold much of anything.

So, on the second morning of their vacation, with rain pouring down relentlessly, the women informed the men they were going shopping. "What are we supposed to do all day?" Luke had asked Mara.

"Take a hike," Mara had replied. Luke hadn't been certain if she meant that literally or figuratively. Wisely, he didn't ask.

So later that day, when the sun finally peeked through the gray clouds, Luke had received a call from Mara.  
The Jedi was not about to question his wife - she said come, he was going.

"I don't think it's about shopping, Han," Luke answered. "They've been shopping for two days. I think they might be shopped out."

"They're women, Luke," Han returned quickly. "Women never get shopped out."

Nevertheless, Han went with Luke and found public transportation to the location they had been told to go. When the hoverbus pulled up to a forested area and stopped, Luke looked over to Han. "This is our stop."

"Here?" Han asked, surprised. "This isn't anywhere!"

"I think it's a forest preserve," Luke answered, as he looked at the small map that was handed out to tourists.

Obediently, they exited the hoverbus and stood uncertainly as it pulled away, leaving them alone. "Do you think this is their idea of a practical joke?" Han wondered.

"Luke! Han!" The men turned around at the sound of Leia's voice. "There you are, we were wondering what was taking you so long!"

"We came as fast as we could," Han groused. "You two have the rental."

Mara walked up beside her husband. "Well, we were just driving around in the rain, and all of a sudden the sun came out! And here we were! Isn't this nice?"

Luke looked around at the trees. "Yes, it is very nice, honey."

Leia looped her arm through Han's and led him away from the bus stop. "Come on, we'll show you what we decided to do."

The group walked down a dirt path until they came to a small foot bridge over a pretty little river. Several people stood around a small building at the side of the river, with tiny boats all in a line.

"This is it!" Mara proclaimed happily.

"This is what?" Luke asked as he looked around for something of interest, anything at all.

"We are going canoeing!" Leia said with a grin.

"What? No!" Luke quickly shot back. "I can't swim!"

"Oh for..." Mara snapped. "It's a just a little creek, the water doesn't even go over your head."

"And besides," Leia put in. "We aren't going in the water, we are floating on _top_ of the water!"

"Famous last words," Han mumbled under his breath.

"What?" Leia returned, narrowing her eyes at Han.

"Nothing."

"Come on, then," Mara cajoled. "We've already paid for the canoe."

The four carefully climbed into the narrow boat and picked up their paddles and started rowing down the river. All in all, things were going fairly well. The scenery was beautiful, and the rain had left the air smelling clean and fresh.

"Do we turn around at some point and paddle back?" Luke asked, frowning as they paddled further and further away,

"No," Mara answered. "There is a stopping point ahead, and they haul the canoe back and take us back to the starting point. Quit worrying."

"Oh Mara, look at the flower!" Leia said breathlessly. Indeed, a flowering branch dipped down low over the river, its exotic red blossoms almost touching the water.

"It's beautiful," Mara agreed with her sister-in-law.

"Wait," Luke said suddenly. "I'll get it for you." He leaned over and almost reached the branch. Almost. The canoe, suddenly off balance, tipped and sent all four occupants spilling into the chilly water.

For a brief moment, Luke panicked. Then his feet found the sandy bottom, and he pulled himself upright.

Han was standing in the water up to his waist, glaring in Luke's direction. "Skywalker! I'm gonna kill you!"

"No you're not, Solo," Mara growled back. "I'm going to kill him first!"

"Canoeing wasn't my idea!" Luke protested.

"You're the one who tipped the thing over," Leia argued back.

"Wait a second," Han inserted into the argument. "Where is the canoe?"

"I think it floated away," Leia answered with a sigh.

* * *

The four pulled themselves out of the creek and spent an hour picking their way through dense underbrush. Halfway back, the rain returned with a vengeance. They were cold, wet and covered with insect bites. Finally, they found their way back to the canoe rental place.

"What happened?" a teenage worker asked them as he looked up from his comic flimsy.

"We were having so much fun, we decided to walk back and do it all over," Han shot back sarcastically. "What do you think happened?"

"Oh, well," the teenager looked flustered. "I think this means you lost your deposit. We've never had anybody walk all the way back, without the canoe."

They four bedraggled tourists dragged themselves back to where the hovercar was parked. For a long minute they stood in the pouring rain waiting as Mara's eyes grew wider and she searched her pockets.

"Now what?" Leia asked cautiously.

"I can't find the entry pass key!" she said frantically. "I think it must have fallen out of my pocket in the river!"

**THE END**


	10. Flight of the Lucky Charm

**Flight of the Lucky Charm**

(St. Pat's challenge viggie involving Lucky Charms and green things)

One Year, Post ROTJ

Leia walked toward Han as he stood on the open-air landing dock, reading a piece of bright green flimsy. He'd been away on assignment for six weeks, and sometimes the time apart drove her crazy, but she was grateful he had committed himself so thoroughly to the New Republic, even to the point he wore that hated olive-green General uniform. Right now, however, he was dressed in his typical civilian clothes, and was so engrossed in reading the flimsy he was unaware of her approach. "Welcome home, flyboy!" Leia said, as she was now close enough to speak without shouting.

Han spun around, grinning, but crumpling the green flimsy into a wad and whipping it behind his back. "Hi, Sweetheart!" Quickly, he leaned forward, planting a long, lingering kiss on her lips. "I missed ya."

"Glad to hear it," Leia said, smiling. "What are you hiding behind your back?"

"Nothing."

Leia wasn't fooled by his innocent expression. Holding out her hand, she demanded, "Give it to me."

"It's mine," Han said stubbornly. "It was addressed to me. Personally."

"So it's from a secret admirer?"

"No. Well, sorta."

This admission surprised the Princess. "Really? Give it to me."

"That's not fair."

"You're sounding like a five-year-old," Leia said, exasperated.

"Fine. Just don't say I didn't warn ya." He thrust the flimsy at her, his mouth in a tight line.

Sighing, Leia straightened out the flimsy, then read the words.

_"All Good Corellians Welcome You  
To be Their Lucky Charm  
Just remember to wear Corellian Green, and not be Blue  
Cuz happiness is required, and Green is the color of the Mystic Cairn."_

"What does this mean?" Leia asked, confused. "Besides the fact Corellians apparently can't write poetry?"

"It's just a stupid Corellian tradition," Han explained tiredly.

"You're admitting something Corellian is stupid?" Leia asked, amused. "Since when?"

"Since I've been invited to be the Lucky Charm," Han mumbled morosely.

"Explain."

"It's like this.... once a year, Corellians throw this big drinkin' bash -"

"And that's something you're opposed to? Since when?"

Han glared at his Princess. "Do you want to hear this, or not?"

"Of course. You have my complete attention."

"Anyway....once a year, Corellians have this big bash, and wear green clothes, and drink too much green-colored gizer, and have parades, even though the weather is generally too darn cold to have parades at that time of year - "

"They probably don't notice it, after drinking too many green gizers," Leia inserted.

"And they always invite someone to be the Lucky Charm. Sorta like the leader for the day."

Leia's face lit up with comprehension. "And they asked you?"

"Yes."

"Isn't that a great honor?"

"Only if you're drunk."

"You're accepting though, right?"

"Not a chance," Han replied, shaking his head. "I've got my pride."

"You can't turn them down, Han," Leia admonished. "It will be a great boost to the New Republic to have General Han Solo be the Corellian Day Lucky Charm."

"Do you know how stupid that sounds, Princess?"

"I don't care. We're going."

"WE? As in... you an' me?" Han said, raising his voice. "You can't go!"

"Why not? Because I'm not Corellian?"

Han thought frantically. "Yeah... that's the reason. You're not Corellian."

"You're a really bad liar, Solo. I'm coming."

She spun around and headed away, and Han could only watch her leave with the terrible, awful green flimsy still clutched in her fist. "But.... but you don't understand," he whispered in despair.

* * *

Corellia

Wedge staggered over to Han, giving him a hard slap on his back. "Where's your green, Solo?" he slurred, eyeing Han's regular outfit. "Yer suppose's to be wearin' green."

"I don't own any green clothes," Han groused, backing away from Wedge's gizer-breath.

"Well... it looks like the luck o' the Corellians is wit' ya," Wedge said, pointing to a large group of people heading in their direction. "Yer crown an' robe are comin' now, King Solo."

Han groaned, and turned to face the mob, which included a somber-faced Luke Skywalker and a rather tipsy Leia Organa holding a dented, gold crown encrusted with dull, green gemstones, several of which were missing entirely. The green robe was rather threadbare as well, having seen better days. This didn't seem to deter the rowdy group, as they threw the musty cloak over Han's shoulders, cheering loudly as Leia reached up and put the crown atop Han's head.

"My Prince," Leia said, giggling. "Just like in my dreams."

"Git on da float, King Solo," Wedge yelled out. "It's almos' time to start the parade!"

Reluctantly, Han climbed up on the rickety, flat hover-craft, which was covered with plasteel green flower petals, and sat down on the 'throne', which was placed prominently in the very center. The hover-craft gave a worrisome wheeze as it lifted in the air, tipping precariously to the right before becoming stable.

"See ya at the Mystic Cairn, King Solo!" Wedge yelled out as the float, err.. floated away and headed down the street, which was lined with thousands of drunken Corellians.

Han glanced back at Leia, his face reflecting pure misery as the spectators happily tossed empty gizer cans at their Lucky Charm.

Smiling, Leia turned to face Wedge. "What's the Mystic Cairn?"

"Oh... that's a big ol' rock right outta town. The Lucky Charm has to climb up to the top, and if he makes it all the way up without fallin' down, he's gotta kiss the top of the rock." Wedge stopped explaining as the dull grey skies finally started pelting down rain. "Of course, it's a lot harder when it's wet."

Luke pulled his greatcoat tighter. "Why do you have this festival when it's so cold?"

"It's cold?" Wedge asked, surprised.

"You're too drunk to notice," Luke griped.

"Well, that's jus' the right reason ya git drunk, Skywalker," Wedge said happily, taking another slurp of green gizer.

"I'm hungry," Luke muttered, looking around. "When do they serve food?"

"Right af..fer the rock climbin'," Wedge informed him, swaying. "But they're settin' up the food tables right now."

"I'm going to go grab something," Luke told his sister.

"You'd better hurry," Leia yelled out as he left. "We're all headin' over to the Mystic Cairn!"

After the parade....

The 'rock' turned out to be an impressive stone indeed, its sides nearly vertical and very smooth, and the peak a good two hundred feet straight up. The crowd gathered around, waiting impatiently for Han to disembark from his float. By this time the rain had turned to a nasty slush mixture, and the rock was coated in ice.

"Climb! CLIMB! CLIMB!" the crowd of Corellians chanted.

Han hesitated in his walk through the tunnel of humanity long enough to glare at the Princess. "This is all your fault."

"Don't be so can...cantan...ker...,um, moody, Han," Leia called out. "Lucky Charm...Climb. That. Rock!" She turned as Han stalked away toward the towering edifice, and looked at Luke in concern. "What's the matter with you?"

Groaning, Luke bent over. "Corellian food doesn't agree with me. I think I ate something bad."

"Like what?" Wedge asked, throwing back another gizer.

"Well...." Luke moaned again, looking quite green. "They hadn't put the food out yet, and the green gizer looked terrible... so I ate ... some salad."

"Salad?" Wedge asked, startled. "Corellians don't eat _salads_! Where did you get it?"

"It was in the middle of the table," Luke said defensively. "I'm sure it was a salad!"

Wedge roared in laughter. "That wasn't a salad! That was the traditional Corellian Clover centerpiece!"

"Is it poisonous?" Leia asked, a bit worried.

"N...noooo," Wedge screamed out, flinging himself on the ground and rolling around, heedless of the muck. "It's a .. a LAXATIVE!"

"Ahhh!" Luke yelled, rushing away from the crowd.

"Poor Luke," Leia lamented sadly. "Now he won't get to see Han climb the rock." She looked around at the assembled Corellians. "Wedge?"

"Yeah?"

"Where are all the women?"

Wedge only laughed harder.

It took Han nearly half an hour of hard climbing, and by the time he'd reach the pinnacle, his hands and knees were scraped and bloodied. Several times he'd thought he was a goner for sure, as the slippery surface nearly caused him to tumble back to the ground.

He could hear the crowd still chanting as he pulled himself up to the highest point, then the loud cheers as he bent over and kissed the smooth rocky top.

It was at that moment the throng of screaming Corellian females came rushing up the opposite side of the Cairn rock. All Corellians knew the backside of the Mystic Rock was an easy climb, gently sloping up to the summit, and this was just another part of their tradition. While the man picked as the Lucky Charm had to climb the side of the steep slope, the women on the other hand, would meet the Lucky Charm at the top. And the woman that caught the Lucky Charm before he reached the bottom would become his bride.

Han threw his hands up in the air, and with wide eyes, went careening down the slippery slope at breakneck speed... with hundreds of women on his heels.

* * *

Wedge managed to finish explaining this just as Han started running back down the Rock, and Leia could only watch in horror as the man she loved was being driven to his death by marriage-mad females.

"I can't believe this...." Leia gasped out. "They're after my Lucky Charm!"

"Well," Wedge drawled out as the crowd screamed out encouragement to the women. "Look at it this way... most of these marriages don't last too long."

Long minutes later, Han finally came tumbling to a stop at Leia's feet, looking up at the incensed Alderaanian. In great pain, he staggered to his feet. "I made it down without getting caught, Sweetheart," he gasped out. To his utter surprise, Leia reached out and slapped his face. "What was that for?" he grumbled, putting his hand over the red palm-print.

"For not letting me know about this part of the tradition," she huffed out. "I would've caught you, nerfherder."

**THE END**


	11. Visiting Alderaan

**Visiting Alderaan **

Late evening on Coruscant, seven years after ROTJ

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Leia held a small cube and was deeply engrossed in thinking about the past. She jumped slightly when she felt a warm hand touch her shoulder. A deep voice rumbled in her ear. "Hey, it's just me." Han leaned over and frowned at the holo-screen. "What … who are you looking at?"

"Jealous?" she asked, trying not to smile.

"Nah…. I'm much better lookin' than that guy," her husband replied with a shrug.

"If you say so," Leia replied dubiously. "But if I were attracted to handsome men instead of scruffy ones, I'll have you know I'd be a Queen right now."

"Don't remind me," Han said, feigning indignation, then rubbed his hand protectively over her very pregnant abdomen. "So, are you gonna tell me who the he is, or do I have to guess? Some holo-star you had a crush on when you were growing up?"

"You're half-way right," Leia said, sighing. "Little girls usually do have their first crush on their daddy."

Han felt a bit of surprise, and took a harder look at the dark-haired, somewhat exotic looking man. There was no resemblance between the holo-image Leia was staring at, and the holo-image Han had seen a few months back during the trip to Tatooine of a very young, blond, Anakin Skywalker. "Daddy?"

"This is Bail Organa," Leia explained. "Winter found this holo a few weeks ago while going through some old Imperial archives left intact after the Republic dissolved and the Empire replaced it. This holo was taken while he was sitting in the Alderaanian Senate chamber box. According to the date stamp, this was recorded one year before Luke and I were born." She grew pensive and sad as she thought back. "I wish I could have told him how much I loved him…. how much he meant to me. I can't even remember if I told him that I loved him the last time I saw him."

"Oh. Well… I was kidding when I said I was better looking…."

Leia laughed slightly at Han's discomfort. "He _was_ a handsome man, wasn't he?"

"I wouldn't know," Han said, raising his eyebrow. "I don't pay attention to what other guys look like."

"Just what other woman look like?"

Han held up his hands in mock defeat. "Can't win here, can I?"

"Never, dear, and I'm glad you realize that. At this rate, you'll be a fully trained husband by next year." She flicked off the holo and stood up. "Tomorrow's another long day of meetings, and I'm exhausted." Leia rubbed the small of her back. "Being pregnant is hard work."

Han leaned over and kissed her neck. "How about I give you a nice, long massage?"

"That sounds like the best deal I've had all day, Flyboy."

* * *

Birds. That was the first thing Leia became aware of when she woke up. Birds? Leia thought, her brain still muddled from sleep. Since when are there song birds on Coruscant, except in zoos and arboretums? She opened her eyes, carefully and reluctantly drawing away from her husband's warm form. Sleeping with Han was like having a toasty bed warmer next to her every night. Of course, Han would complain how cold her toes and fingers were, and sometimes nearly jump out of the bed, yelping, when she pressed up beside him, placing her hands and feet against his bare flesh.

Sitting up, she stared around at the bedroom in the early morning light, muted through the curtains, and felt her heart start hammering in her ears. This was not their bedroom… this was her bedroom, her bedroom on Alderaan, with the pale, pastel blue walls and the cream and blue bedspread. The birds chirping on the window sill were songbirds, native only to Alderaan, and extinct since Tarkin destroyed her planet. This should not be happening. "Han!"

"Mmmfrg?"

"Wake up!"

Groggy, Han pushed the covers off, squinting up at his wife. "What's the matter?"

"Something's wrong!"

Panicked, Han sat up. "Are you in labor? Should I call the doctor?"

"No…. I'm not in labor. Look around!"

Slowly, Han surveyed the room, then looked back at his wife, a befuddled expression across his face. "Where are we?"

"This is my bedroom on Alderaan," she whispered. "When I was growing up."

"That's not possible. This must be some type of joke."

Tears sprang to Leia's eyes. "Who would be so cruel as to pull a prank like that?"

"I don't know… but when I find out, I'm gonna kill them," Han growled out.

"Han, listen to me… there are Alderaanian song birds outside the window." Leia struggled to her feet, then walked over to the window, jerking the soft, cream colored curtains open. Sunlight flooded the room. She jerked the window open, smelling the cool, misty morning air of her childhood memory. The vast green meadows spread out below, with towering, white capped mountains in the distance. "This is Alderaan."

"It's not possible," Han argued, coming up behind her. "There has to be an explanation."

Spinning around, she faced her husband. "What is the explanation, Han? Tell me!"

"Maybe it's an hallucination?"

"Both of us? Having the same hallucination?"

Han shrugged. "Your brother is always telling us how mysterious the Force is. Maybe that has something to do with it."

"The Force? Han Solo is saying this?"

"Well…. it seems as good an explanation as any…."

Leia hurried over to her closet, pushing the door open and stepping inside. Small, formal white dresses she wore as a child hung on one side, her casual, more colorful clothing on the other. There was nothing in the closet that could remotely fit her anymore, so she settled for the largest bathrobe she could find. Even that didn't close across her belly, and the sleeves were far too short.

"Gained some weight lately, huh?" Han asked, leaning against the door frame.

"I wore these clothes when I was about ten," Leia told him. "They wouldn't fit even if I weren't pregnant." She eyed Han standing in the doorway, wearing only his shorts. "I don't think you should wander around the palace like that."

"What do you suggest I wear?" Han replied, looking around the closet. "And don't tell me to put on one of those white dresses, either."

Leia headed over to the bed, pulling down the thick comforter and pulling the top sheet off the bed. "Here... you can wear this."

"A SHEET? You want me to walk around wearing a sheet?"

The Princess folded the sheet in half, then wrapped it twice around Han's waist before draping it up the front of his chest and over one shoulder, then tucking the tail in the backside. She stepped back, trying not to laugh. "Perfect."

"Perfect? Even Lando wouldn't be caught dead wearing a satin sheet with pink and blue flowers!"

"It's better than just wearing shorts." Not giving Han a chance to argue, she headed for the door.

As they walked down the quiet hall, Leia gazed up at the portraits of the Organa ancestors. She felt a lump form in her throat remembering how, as a child, she would stare up at the paintings, trying to pretend she could see her features in those long-dead people, even though she was fully aware she had been adopted. In truth, they looked nothing like her except for the dark brown hair.

"This is hard for you, isn't it?" Han asked quietly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

Leia nodded, then turned her head as laughter filtered down the hall. "That's the dining area." Quickly, she headed that direction, stopping in the doorway. Inside the room sat three ladies, Bail Organa, and two little girls.

"I recognize your father," Han whispered. "Who are the others?"

"My aunts - Celly, Tia and Rouge."

"And the little girls?"

"The one with white hair is Winter. The other one.... is me."

"How is that possible?"

"I don't know," Leia admitted as she moved forward into the room. No one at the table noticed them as they approached. "They can't see us, or hear us."

Han smiled at the little girl that would grow up to become his wife as she flicked a small piece of fruit at her friend, hitting Winter on her cheek. "Leia!" Winter protested.

"Dear," Tia said, shaking her finger in Leia's direction. "Don't throw food. It's very unladylike."

"But I'm just having fun!" little Leia protested, looking toward Bail for support.

"You could hit Winter in the eye, and cause her to become blind," Celly added.

"How can a piece of fruit make someone go blind?" Leia argued back.

"Don't throw food, Leia," Bail said, not looking up from a flimsy he was reading.

"You're not going to be a strict disciplinarian with our kids, are you?" Han said, chuckling at the scene.

Leia watched as the much younger version of herself and Winter got up from the breakfast table, then ran off as they three aunts called after them not to run in the house.

"You really should take more interest in Leia's behavior, Bail," Rouge said reproachfully to her brother. "She's quite the handful, and she never acts very... very regal."

"She's ten," Bail answered, looking up at his sisters as they stood up. "Leia's a wonderful child, with a lot of spirit. I have no intention of damping her joy of life."

"I'm not suggesting you make her miserable," Rouge sniffed. "But we can only do so much to teach her Princess-like behavior. She looks up to her father, and if you tell her what you expect - "

"I expect her to be happy, Rouge. I expect her to be a child right now, because childhood is too short, and with the Emperor busy crushing the very soul out of the galaxy, it will be shorter than it should be."

"Still," Tia continued. "A young Prince will like a refined, lady-like Princess for his wife. Otherwise, who knows what kind of scoundrels will come calling."

"Yes," Leia agreed as she nodded. "Who knows? I could end up married to a scruffy-looking smuggler, Aunt Tia."

"Hey!" Han protested, then gave Leia a wide grin as he spread his arms. "You couldn't have done better than this.... a scruffy looking smuggler wearing a pink and blue satin bed sheet!"

Bail stood up, folding the flimsy he'd been reading. "Don't marry her off yet, Tia. Leia will turn out fine, and she will marry the man she loves. And whoever she marries will be the luckiest man in the galaxy, too."

"See?" Leia said, jabbing Han in his side. "You're very lucky... my father just said so."

"I know," he said softly, winking at her.

The three aunts left the room, leaving Bail shaking his head at his sisters. He reached down and picked up his cup of caf, giving it one last swallow, then headed out of the room.

"Father?" Leia called out.

Bail stopped walking, turning around as though he wasn't certain if he'd heard something or not. "Is someone in here?"

"Father," Leia repeated, tears starting to course down her cheeks. "I love you."

The Prince frowned into the room, then headed out of the door.

* * *

Leia sat up in bed, suddenly wide awake. The Coruscant sky was just starting to turn from black to the purple of early dawn.

Han shifted and stirred next to her. "Leia?"

"It's early, Han," Leia said, her voice thick with emotion, her face damp. "Go back to sleep."

"Okay..." he mumbled, reaching over and gently tugging her to lie back down.

She eased back against the pillows as Han wrapped his arms around her. Just as she was drifting back into slumber, the familiar voice of Bail Organa whispered in her ear, _I love you too, my daughter_.

**The End**


	12. A Slip of the Tongue

This is a very short one-shot, based on the fact I just finished 'Crucible'. If you haven't read it yet, you might want to skip this story, as it contains spoilers. I should probably add that if you haven't read 'Crucible' this story will make no sense whatsoever... LOL

* * *

**A Slip of the Tongue - AU**

He had no real self-awareness for what seemed like an eternity. It all began, oddly enough, with his reflection, and dim memories. Or perhaps it was nothing more than a series of strange dreams. He thought he saw himself as an old man, standing in a mirror, looking back with an expression of pity and disgust.

It was shortly after this bizarre dream that reality set in with loud explosions and his cylinder prison was shattered. He ended up lying on the floor, in a puddle of some green nutrient goop. Was this gooey stuff bacta? Had he been injured? Dozens of dead bodies were scattered around, and blaster fire could be heard from outside this … medical room? He struggled to his feet, dazed and confused. Something told him that he needed clothes, so he located a white sheet and tied it around his waist. It was difficult to walk through the shattered dura-glass without sustaining injury to his bare feet, and several times he cut his soles as he hurriedly exited the chamber, away from the noise and stench of the fighting.

He knew he needed to escape. He knew, without understanding quite why, that he would be killed if anyone saw him. He made his way through a tangle of hallways and corridors, and stumbled upon two women. They were badly injured, although one female was assisting the other into a strange looking space ship.

The less injured one turned toward him, her eyes as dark and cold as a black hole. "What are YOU doing here?" she demanded to know.

"Just kill him," the other, dark-haired female hissed. She waved down at her injury. "He did this to me!"

The man was surprised at the accusation. "I did not." His own voice startled him, for until this moment he couldn't recall having ever spoken.

The blonde suddenly laughed. "No, I don't believe you did."

"Where are you going?" the man asked, the urgent need to escape propelling him. "Will you take me with you?"

"No, we're not," the dark-haired woman snapped. "Go space yourself."

"Yes, we will," the blonde spoke in opposition.

"Have you lost it?" the first woman asked, her face scowling in disbelief. "Do you know what this is?"

"Of course I do, Gev," the blonde replied as she stepped to one side. "Welcome aboard my Ship. I'm sure we'll all be the very best of friends."

"Do you know who I am?" he asked, entering the strange vessel.

"Certainly. Everyone knows you. You are the famous Han Solo," said Savara Raine.

He pointed to the dark-haired woman. "Why did she call me 'what' instead of 'who'?"

"A slip of the tongue," Raine assured him. "It was only a slip of the tongue."

**THE END**


	13. Killik Hive

**Warning: Character death! **This story was written because **kayladie **challenged me to write a death scene for my favorite character, with the promise that if I did, she'd write a mushy Han and Leia piece! So... I'm expecting her to deliver!

* * *

**Killik Hive**

His cell was dank, dark and smelled cloyingly sweet. The once white shirt was covered with so much dirt and blood it looked mottled brown. His feet were bare, the soles of his feet blackened and charred - a very effective method of ensuring he could not escape. He had no idea how long he'd been held a prisoner in this place.

Every once in a while, he could hear the screams of fellow prisoners as they were dragged to their deaths. And a terrible death it was. The insect-like creatures that held them all captive would choose one of their victims, and take that warm blooded creature to the main hive where all the anthropods would swarm around, impaling the victim with long, sharp proboscises. Then the 'meal' would be sucked dry of all blood, leaving only bones and shriveled flesh and organs. A painful, slow death was in store for all the Humans, Wookiees, Biths, and other beings held in this strange dungeon.

It was only a matter of time before it was his turn, unless some miracle happened. If his friends or family could once again pull off the impossible, and rescue him from his fate, like they'd done before... He coughed violently, and red blood speckled his lips. His breathing was becoming more labored, since he had been beaten unconscious during his capture. The beating had hardly been necessary, since his beloved ship's hull had been breached. He remembered being shot down, crashing onto the planet's surface, his own body broken as his destroyed ship. He shut his eyes, barely clinging to awareness.

Then he heard a voice... a very familiar voice. _"Dad?"_

It took all his effort to open his eyes and look. "Anakin?" He decided the high fever must be making him hallucinate. Anakin was dead... he'd been dead for five years.

_"Dad... you're not hallucinating."_

Great. Now his hallucination was telling him he wasn't hallucinating. "I must be," he mumbled softly.

_"No. You're not. I've come for you, Dad."_

"Come for me?"

_"Mom and Uncle Luke can't get to you in time, and I'm not letting you die like that. You have to come with me. Now."_

Han forced himself to raise his head, feeling as though the dark cell were spinning with the exertion. "Where?"

_"To the other side. With me, and Chewie."_

"Chewie's here?"

Anakin Solo smiled. _"On the other side, Dad. And you'll finally get to meet your parents, too."_

Suddenly, he understood. "I'm dying."

_"Yes, you're dying. But unless you take my hand, it won't be fast enough. The creatures will come for you in a few minutes. So you have to come. Now."_

"But what about Leia... your mom? She'll come here to rescue me... and I'll be dead." He coughed again, barely able to get his breath.

_"I've already spoken to Uncle Luke,"_ Anakin answered. _"He's told Mom. She's upset, but understands not to come here. If they did, they'd all die trying to rescue you."_

"Can't... can't let that... happen."

_"No, we can't." _Anakin reached his glowing hand down to his father. _"Just take my hand, Dad. I promise, you and Mom will someday be together again, before you know it. Time doesn't matter where we're going."_

Han heard scuffling sounds outside his cell door, the clang of metal keys. Then he looked into his son's blue eyes... the color of Luke's eyes. And then he reached up, clasping his youngest son's fingers.

It was surprisingly easy to stand up. He watched as the door swung open, and the insect creatures swarmed into the room. Han turned his eyes down, saw his own battered, broken body lying on the floor, and heard the creatures scream in anger and frustration that their meal was already dead.

"Dad," Anakin said, taking his arm. "We have to go." He pointed to a tunnel of light.

"Is Chewie really in there?"

"Everyone is in there," Anakin answered, grinning at his father. "Or they will be, very soon."

"Did I ever tell you how sorry I am how I acted -"

Anakin stopped Han from going any further. "I know, Dad. I've always known." He smiled as Han embraced him tightly. "Come on. You'll like it over there. Chewie's been waiting for you to help him fix up the _Falcon_."

"The _Falcon_? You mean..."

The Jedi nodded, and guided his father toward the light.

**THE END**


	14. Dubious Sort of Date

**A Dubious Sort of Date**

This isn't what I expected when I decided to proceed. A private conversation with the President seemed like a good way to advertise my company and the newest generation of laser weapons. I even would have given a little bit of a price break to the New Republic, for some guarantees, of course. That's the way politics works – a favor for a favor.

And this little 'date' isn't exactly cheap, I'll have you know. Twenty-three thousand credits it's costing me, although I can use it as a tax write-off because the money is going to some environmental charity that the President is personally involved with. That was my winning bid for a 'dinner date with the President.' Still, it would be a small price to pay if I sold those weapons.

But now…. these things never seem to work out as intended. A small war broke out last night on some backwater planet, and the President had to call an emergency session with her cabinet. Her secretary called me this morning to let me know she can't make our 'date', but her husband would fill in, if that was okay with me.

What could I say? No? I don't want to eat dinner with the infamous General Han Solo? Well, I _didn't_ want to, but that wouldn't exactly put me and my company in the President's good graces, if you know what I mean.

So here I sit, waiting alone at a table in an upscale, very expensive restaurant, waiting for the President's husband to show up. Maybe he'll appreciate hearing about the fine quality of my company's laser weapons, and suggest to his wife that the New Republic should buy them. I hope so, anyway, or I've just wasted a lot of money; money that could have spent on new hair pieces.

Oh, here he comes. And judging by the scowl on his face, it doesn't look like he's too happy about this 'date', either.

* * *

Great. Just kriffin' great. She knows how I hate schmoosing with rich people, and once again I got sucked into this dinner. It wouldn't be so bad if I went along with her, but nooo. Another political crisis comes up, and who has to step up and save the day? Well, besides Leia stopping that war, I mean. ME! Good old Han.

'Han,' Leia asks me, ever so sweetly, as we got ready for bed last night. 'I need you to do me a huge favor.' Then she bats her eyes at me. Okay, maybe not exactly _bats. _Leia ain't the batting sort. But she sure knows how to use her feminine charms to manipulate me. Maybe she even used her Force-willies to sway my mind. When she first told me what she wanted me to do, I said a big, FORCEFUL, 'No!' And then, she sighed, and said it was really important, and started kissing my neck, and next thing I knew, I caved in and said I'd take her place at this dinner date thing.

So here I am all dressed up in my finest (translate this to: uncomfortable) clothes, and having to smile and make small talk for the next two hours - all because of some endangered tree-toads on Naboo and some brain-dead idiots on the other side of the galaxy that can't stop shooting at each other.

And do you want to know what's the very worst part of this 'date'? The high bidder (twenty-three thousand! For ONE meal! Are tree-toads really worth that kind of money?) was some pompous old rich guy. Got that? Guy, as in male. So I, Han Solo, have to go out on a 'date' with a MAN! Oh, the indignities that I suffer for love. But_ next_ time, she can con her brother into taking her place.

**The End**


	15. Cold

**COLD**

Cold. Never in his life had Han been this cold. He glanced over at his young friend worriedly, the dim light from the small heater allowing him a bit of vision in the otherwise inky darkness, then reluctantly removed his gloves, exposing his already numb fingers to the bitter air. Carefully, he rubbed Luke's exposed face, trying to keep the blood circulating, then checked the kid's pulse. It was weak, but steady, and that gave Han some comfort.

The Corellian fumbled with his gloves, pulling them back over his hands. He flexed his digits, wincing at the stabbing pinpricks of pain. Han leaned closer to the tent's outer covering, straining to hear something besides the howling wind, hoping for the distant roar of the speeders, and knowing full well they would not be arriving before dawn, which still was five hours away. It would be the longest five hours he could recall as he kept checking on Luke's life-signs, and fighting off the desire to drift into what would surely be a fatal sleep.

What had possessed him to come charging outside in a blizzard, playing the hero once again? His friendship with Luke? As the kid groaned, Han knew that was only half the reason. The other half was a certain dark-haired, snippy Princess. If Luke died, he wasn't sure he could have faced her, not without giving his best shot at saving the kid - even at the expense of his own life. Luke was Leia's other half, and the pang of jealousy that followed that thought hurt worse than he wanted to admit. Deep down, Han knew he had somehow fallen in love with the Princess. But it would never work. Not with a guy like him.

_If I die out here, would Leia miss me, even a little?_ Han wondered...

* * *

_He's a fool, and this just proves it_, Leia thought for the hundredth time as she paced her small ice-carved cabin. There was no chance Solo would be able to locate Luke out in those endless snowdrifts. He shouldn't have gone out... but by doing so, he'd given her hope, given all the Rebels hope that Luke Skywalker, hero of the Rebellion, would return alive. The Princess shut her eyes, determined not to cry.

She placed her bare hand against the icy wall, feeling the cold creep into her palm and down her wrist. Eventually, the burning sensation forced her to pull her hand away, and Leia wondered if that was how they'd die, what the two men she'd come to love would experience in their final moments. Angry at herself for thinking such negative thoughts, she tried focusing on the possibility, however slim, that somehow the Corellian would defy the odds yet again.

Startled, Leia glanced up at her reflection in the small mirror. Did she just mentally admit she loved Han? Luke... she could understand. With Luke, she felt comfortable - at peace. But not that Corellian - he never gave her a moment's peace. Leia put her finger against her lips, wondering what it would have been like to kiss him. Just once. She'd kissed Luke in the past, but there was never any emotion behind those kisses. Kissing Luke had always left her ... cold. Maybe she was really an ice-princess, incapable of true passion. Sighing, she knew that wasn't exactly the truth. When she was near Han all she felt was a jumble of intense emotions. Did that mean she hated Han... or just the opposite?

_I wonder if Han's thinking about me, even a little? _Leia mused.

* * *

The Princess stood next to Chewbacca as the speeders brought in the two men. She moved forward as Luke was carried out on a hover-stretcher, and Chewie quickly went to embrace his exhausted Captain as he climbed out of the vehicle.

Her heart dropped as she saw how injured and bloodied Luke's face was, and Leia grasped his still-gloved hand. "Luke," she said softly as the young man's eyes fluttered open. "Hang on. Everything is going to be fine."

"I know..." Luke whispered. "Thanks to Han."

"Yes." Leia looked up at the tall Corellian. "Thanks to Han."

The medics quickly moved the young man away, and headed toward the medical facility, and Chewie gave Han another pat, and headed back to the_ Falcon_, leaving Han and Leia alone. The Princess felt awkward in the ensuing silence, then opened her mouth to tell him how worried she'd been, how glad she was he was back and safe, but Han spoke first.

Han cleared his throat. "Not a bad bit of rescuing, if I do say so myself."

Instead of telling him how relieved and happy she was, Leia heard herself saying, "I see the cold didn't damage your ego."

"My ego's survived the last three years being blasted by your iciness, so last night was positively toasty warm by comparison," the Corellian shot back quickly. "I hope Chewie didn't rip my ship apart last night. I'm outta here, your Worshipfulness."

"Not a second too soon," Leia retorted, then spun around and hurried away before her face betrayed her true feelings. She felt like an idiot for wondering if Han had spent the night thinking about her, when all he'd been thinking about was leaving her.

As Han watched her leave, he spoke in a sad and quiet voice so no one could hear his words, "I guess if I'd died out there, you wouldn't have missed me, not even a little bit."

**END**


	16. Grave Plots

Just a little Halloween Story for all you Luke and Mara fans out there... ;) LFL owns all...

* * *

**Grave Plots**

The beautiful woman bent over the crib, stroking her child's soft face. "Ah, my little baby," she cooed quietly. "How long I've waited for you." She picked him up, rocking the newborn in her arms, looking up and smiling as her husband entered the room.

"Mara," Luke murmured softly, so as not to wake up Ben. The Jedi walked up to his wife, kissing her cheek, then stroking Ben's downy hair atop his head. "Having a child is like a dream come true. I never thought I'd be this lucky." He looked up, just in time to catch an odd expression on Mara's face, like a shadow flickering across a sunny meadow. But it passed as swiftly as it came, and he wasn't certain he'd even seen it truly there.

"Yes," Mara said lightly. "We're lucky. Both so incredibly lucky." Gently, she placed the baby back in the crib, then took Luke's arm. "Come, my love. It's late, and Ben needs his sleep."

Together, they walked out of the nursery, dimming the light as they left the room. Inside his crib, the baby opened his blue eyes, and gave a little gurgle as sparks tingled at his pink baby fingers.

* * *

Two years later...

Luke didn't know how to stop Ben from howling hysterically. The beings passing in the streets would hurry past, trying to escape the shrill screeching coming from just inside the store. "Ben, listen to me," Luke tried reasoning with his young son. "You can't have every toy in the galaxy. You have to save some for other children."

"I WANT!" Ben protested at the top of his lungs, clutching the small, plastic rancor to his chest. "MOMMY LETS ME!"

"Mommy does _not_ let you have anything you want," Luke argued, belatedly realizing that arguing with a two-year-old was fruitless.

"I WANT RANCOR!"

"Ben..." Luke said, sighing. "You're too young. It has sharp teeth. You could hurt yourself."

Ben glared at his daddy, his cheeks stained with tears. "I HATE YOU!"

An older woman walking past looked down at the kneeling Jedi and the child, turning her nose up in disgust as she continued on, and Luke felt his face flush with embarrassment. "You don't mean that," Luke whispered to his son.

"I do too!" Ben said, throwing the toy on the floor. "You gonna be sorry." With that, the child hurried away, and Luke stood up and ran after, afraid of letting Ben out of his sight.

He never noticed the toy rancor slowly sizzling and melting into a dark puddle.

* * *

Five years later...

The woman was furious, and unimpressed with the fact Mara was a Jedi Master with a lightsaber clipped to her belt. "This is the third time - the THIRD time - that your son has deliberately hurt my daughter while they practiced with lightsabers," she practically shouted. "If this doesn't stop, I will not allow my child to be trained as a Jedi, Force-sensitive or not."

"The lightsabers are training models," Mara shot back. "They can't cause serious harm."

Luke glanced nervously at his hot-tempered wife, then hurriedly stepped between the two women. "Ben doesn't hurt Teena on purpose - "

"Don't give me that bantha-spit," she interrupted harshly. "My Teena has told me how your son taunts her, and then uses his superior skills to burn her skin. He laughs at her when she gets hurt!"

"We'll talk to Ben," Luke said soothingly. "I'm sure this is a big misunderstanding."

The woman looked angry and dubious. "I doubt it. But if it happens again..."

"It won't," Luke said quickly, watching as the mother turned on her heel and stalked away.

"She's just jealous of Ben," Mara said, crossing her arms. "None of those younglings can come even close to Ben's talent, and they're all jealous."

"I don't like this," Luke said, sighing. "Ben shouldn't be teasing the girl, and certainly he shouldn't be hurting her."

"If she gets hurt, it's her fault, not Ben's."

"Mara," Luke admonished. "You can't believe that."

The red-head turned her icy green gaze at her husband. "And I can't believe you're taking someone else's side here."

"I'm not taking sides," Luke replied tightly.

"Sure you are," she snapped back. "Just don't make _me_ take sides, Luke."

"What does that mean?"

"Figure it out," Mara hissed as she walked away.

* * *

One year later...

"BEN!" Luke yelled upon seeing the disaster. "What have you done?"

The eight year-old grinned up at his shocked father. "I took it apart."

"It? Threepio isn't an 'it'!" Luke said, appalled at the array of metal parts strewn across the child's bedroom. "You put him back together. Now!"

Ben stood up, kicking the round, empty golden head, watching in satisfaction as it bounced against the wall. "No."

"No?"

"That's right. I said no. N. O. And you can't make me, either."

"I most certainly can, young man," Luke said sternly. "I'm your father, and you'll do as I say."

"Or what?"

Luke looked startled, then finally said, "I'll take away privileges until you put Threepio back together."

"Mom won't let you," the boy replied, folding his arms in a perfect imitation of his mother.

"Of course she will," Luke said with far more certainty than he felt. In fact, the older Ben got, the more Mara stood up on the boy's side, forcing Luke to either back down, or have else have an argument in front of their child. When he tried to talk to her about this issue in private, she accused Luke of expecting far too much of Ben. Luke felt the situation was exactly the opposite: it was Mara that never expected anything of Ben, especially when it came to his behavior.

Ben tried pushing past his father, and Luke reached out and placed his hand on Ben's shoulder to stop him. "Ben, listen to - " He never got any further, as Ben turned around, his eyes shining with hatred, his own small hand raised in a tight fist. Unprepared for the Force-blow, Luke flew across the room, slamming so hard against the far wall that the plaster cracked.

When Luke regained consciousness, he was in his own bed, and Mara was standing and staring down at him. "It was an accident," she said firmly. "We're not going to talk about this... ever again."

"Mara..."

Her eyes blazed in cold fury as she cut him off, her fingers touching the hilt of her lightsaber. "An accident! I said it was an accident!"

Luke swallowed hard. "It was an accident."

* * *

Two years later...

"I'm tired of being trained," Ben announced at the breakfast table. "I want to be a Jedi Knight."

Luke stared at his son, trying to formulate a response. Unfortunately, Mara was faster. "That's a great idea, Ben." She looked at Luke with a challenging expression. "Isn't it, my love?"

"Great?" Luke spluttered. "He's ten!"

"So?" Ben shot back. "I've been training for eight years already. You only trained for a couple before you made yourself a Knight. Right, Mom?"

"That's right, dear."

Luke sighed. "Things were different back then."

"I want to be a Jedi!" Ben said hotly. "I can beat you in a lightsaber fight... _dad."_

"You know that's not true."

"Prove it."

"Yes, Luke," Mara goaded with a laugh. "Prove it."

"Fine," he said tiredly. "After breakfast, we'll go to the training area - "

"Now," Ben interrupted, standing up. "Can I use_ your _lightsaber, Mom?"

"Sure."

"Mara!" Luke gasped, watching as his wife casually handed her saber to their son.

The violet-hued blade hissed to life, and Luke barely had the presence of mind to throw himself to one side as the table was cleaved in two. Rolling to his feet, Luke ignited his own green blade, unaware how it even had ended up in his hand. "Ben... stop this. Someone could get hurt."

"I think that someone is you, Skywalker," the boy said in a deep voice, peering out from beneath a hooded gaze. The boy's eyes were no longer blue, but a sickly, glowing yellow. "I've waited so long... so long for this day."

"Mara... something's wrong..."

The red-head threw back her head and laughed. "Nothing is wrong, Skywalker. Everything will finally be put right. Starting today."

The young child lunged forward, slashing away and forcing Luke to back into a corner. "Today, young Skywalker... you die," the boy cackled at Luke's fear and confusion.

"Wha... what's happening?" Luke stuttered, defending himself but unable to bring himself to strike offensively at his own off-spring.

"Meet your son, Luke Skywalker," Mara mocked. "Meet Emperor Palpatine."

"This... isn't possible..."

Palpatine threw back his young head and roared in amusement. "Did you really think she loved you? Foolish, foolish boy..." Ben's face turned wicked, twisted. "Now I will finish what I started over Endor. Prepare to die, young Skywalker."

And the Emperor struck back.

**THE END**


	17. Han vs Food

Funny Quote Challenge Response. Quote necessary to use is underlined.

Story set shortly after ANH.

* * *

**Han vs. Food**

I suppose you might be wondering how I could wind up spending the night in a medic bay with first degree burns on my poor tongue? Not to mention extreme intestinal distress and agonizing pain in my poor eyes! I could've been permanently blinded. Well, wonder away, 'cuz I ain't tellin' ya…

Okay, _fine_ then. Sometimes Wookiees can be a real pain in the you-know-where, so don't start threatening me, pal. I've had a rough couple of hours, and I'll have you know it's all a certain high an' mighty princess's fault. How, you ask? No, she didn't give me a tongue-lashing… then it would be _her_ appendage blistered and burned, not mine.

It started out innocently, as most things usually do. Why do those Rebels always have to send us on runs for food supplies, anyway? I can't help it if my tastes in all things edible run a bit different than most people. I was raised by a Wookiee cookin' for me. Don't yell so loud! It's not Dewlanna's fault I'm Corellian through and through. Why don't _you_ go do the grocery shopping next time we're sent out on one of these boring trips? I'm positive the Rebels would _love_ eatin' raw slabs of gristly meat.

Oh, I know they pay us real good. Don't get your fur all in a mat. Anyway, like I was explaining… or trying to explain since you keep interrupting me… it started with a little visit to the mess hall, which was smelling quite good for a change. But the second I walked into the cafeteria all the pilots stopped talking and turned around to glare at me. Like I'd done something wrong! Me! Of all people!

Klivian, you know, Hobbie? The guy that just joined the Rebellion? He jumped up and accused me of working for the Empire. The guy actually claimed I was trying to kill everyone! And then Janson had the nerve to agree with Klivian. When I asked them how they came to that brilliant conclusion, all the pilots pointed at their food, which was mostly uneaten. So I asked them what the hell was the matter with it, since it smelled darn good to me.

Wedge put his two credits in at this point, and said it was a little bit too spicy for most everyone's taste, including his tastes. What kind of Corellian would make that claim, I asked, maybe a bit too defensively. Spice is, well, the spice of life. It spices things up! Makes food interesting, I said.

I gotta admit Luke tried to defend me right then. He said it could possibly have been the food prep droid, and maybe something was wrong with its programming. Of course, I said snidely. Those droids can't taste, so how can they understand proper cooking techniques? So I asked to taste Luke's uneaten stew, and boy, was that stuff hot and spicy! I was about to ask for a cold glass of water, when you know who shows up.

Whaddya mean, _who_? The Princess of Perfection, who else? There was no way I was gonna admit that my throat was burning with her standing there, looking down her nose at me. It doesn't matter that she's shorter than me; she was STILL lookin' down her snoot at me, waiting for me to admit I was wrong. Like that'll happen! So I said – in no uncertain terms - that the food was fine… if anything, it was under-seasoned for a pure, hot-blooded all-Corellian male like me. I've gotta admit I winked at her when I said that, just to get her all riled up.

Then do you know what she had the nerve to say? She said if it wasn't spicy enough, I should prove to her what a real man I was by eating something twice as spicy. So I replied, only TWICE? Why I'll bet I could easily handle food _four_ times as spicy and not break a sweat!

So she actually smiled, and told me she'd take me up on that bet. What do I win, Princess? I asked with a leer. Money? she asked me, since that's my usual demand. Nope, I replied. What I want is a kiss from you. A big, long, lingering kiss, right in front of all these X-Wing pilots. THAT flustered her, let me tell you! I thought for sure she'd back out, and then I could laugh and tease her endlessly for being scared of a kiss. Whaddaya mean, I'm insensitive to her feelings? I ain't insensitive… I just don't care! Well, I _don't_ care, so quit staring at me like that. Luke accused me of the same thing. You an' Luke are exactly alike, do you know that? If it weren't for all the hair and height difference, I'd swear you two were twins, separated at birth. Notice you've both got the same color eyes!

Anyway, I was sure surprised when she agreed to my terms, and she'd kiss me if I ate a regular portion of extra spicy stew. Who would've thought she'd say yes? But it was too late for me to back out at that point, 'cuz all the pilots were taking out credits chips and placing their own bets. So the Princess, all sweet-like, calls in the droid and orders it to make a meal with four times the spices it used the last time. The droid got a bit concerned, how do you like that one? A dumb droid cares more about my welfare than the Princess, or all those pilots! Oh, shut up and stop laughing, furball. It's not a bit funny.

So the droid prepped the food, and brought out a steaming platter of stew. It took me a few seconds to work up my nerve and put that first spoonful in my mouth, pal. I thought I was gonna die, right then and there. It felt like liquid fire burning all the way down my throat and when it hit my stomach it felt like the Fires of Mustafar! I was thinking about backing out at that point, but then she had the nerve to ask if I bit off more than I could chew, and she'd understand if I threw in the spoon, so to speak. You should have seen her expression. All smirky and superior. So I said it tasted great, and I was gonna win this bet if it was the last thing I was ever gonna do.

I took another bite, and then another. Sith spit couldn't have been hotter than that stew I was trying to choke down my gullet. I was sweatin' like a dewback in the middle of a Tatooine desert at this point, pal. My nose was running like a Ortolan with a head cold, and my vision was starting to get blurry. All the guys were yellin' at me to keep eating, and think about the reward, except Luke, who kept telling me I was acting stupid. I wasn't sure kissing the Princess was worth the pain I was experiencing, but I wasn't about to admit to the kid he might actually be right.

Then I made my fatal mistake. I had used a napkin a few minutes earlier to wipe my burning lips, and without thinking I took that same napkin and swiped the sweat out of my eyes. Yup, that's where the pain in my eyes came from… accidentally putting Corellian spices right into my eyeballs. I jumped up like someone had lit my pants on fire, swearing up a storm and tipping the table and the bowl of stew right onto the floor. I could've sworn that stew started sizzling and peeling the paint off the floor as soon as it made contact, but that's 'sides the point. I was in serious agony, Chewie! Agony like I've never experienced before, and I hope to Kessel I'll never experience again.

And to add insult to injury, all the guys were laughing at me, and Janson was actually rolling on the floor and holding his sides. As soon as I get the chance, I'm getting even with that guy. Hell, I'm getting even with all of them, especially the Princess. Why? Well, the stupid bet was her idea to start with, that's why. Kriff, pal, try to follow my story, why don't you?

Yup, as soon as I can talk again, and soon as my eyesight clears up and my bowels stop expelling molten lava, I'm gettin' even with everyone, and if you don't stop laughing, I'm gonna throw this writing stylus at your head and add you to my list.

**THE END**


	18. A Kiss is Still a Kiss

**A Kiss is Still a Kiss**

_A few months after Endor_

"Yer' crazy," Wes slurred, leaning forward on the table. "Jus' 'cuz yer'a gamb..gamber, err, gambler, doesn't mean ya win ever' bet."

Lando leaned back, his eyes glinting. "So you don't think I'll do it?"

"Fer five hundurd credits?" Wes dug around in his pockets. "I dun't know if I's gots that much on me."

"You're good for it," Lando reassured him, winking at Wedge. "I've got witnesses… right?"

"Keep me out of this insanity," Wedge informed the men. "I think you're both certifiable." They were also both drunk, but Lando was much better at hiding this detail than Wes Janson.

"You'd do it for five hundred credits," Lando said, grinning.

"No way. You don't have any idea who's going to walk in that door next."

"Five hundurd credits shays ya don't," Wes mumbled, slapping some chips on the table.

Lando pushed the money over to Wedge. "You hold onto this." He turned toward the cantina door, grinning.

"What if it's a Gamorrean?" Wedge whispered.

"I'll take that chance."

"Anything for a credit," Wedge muttered under his breath. "This is pathetic."

All three pairs of eyes glued themselves to the door. "Maybe it'll be a gorgeous woman," Lando said after a few tense moments. "I do have remarkable luck, you know."

"That's why you lost the _Falcon_ to Han?" Wedge returned.

"A fluke. Just a fluke."

Wes sat up straight, squinting through the smoke-filled bar. "Someone's commin in…"

It took a second for them to register who just sauntered into the room. "Solo…" Wedge said, nearly coughing on his ale. "You just lost five hundred credits, Lando."

The gambler looked affronted. "Who says?"

"You wouldn't!"

"Dis I wanna see," Wes hiccupped. "It might be worth more'n five hundurd."

"You're dead," Wedge said solemnly. "You know that. Right, Calrissian?"

Lando grinned, and stood up, a slight sway the only indication of his current state of inebriation.. "Hey, Han," he called out, waving to his friend. "Over here."

The smuggler-turned-General waved back, smiling at seeing his friends, then made his way through the tightly packed tables over to the group.

"Are you sure your life is worth five hundred credits?" Wedge whispered, almost pleading with Lando.

"He won't kill me. I hope."

"Hey, you losers," Han called out cheerfully. "What're you doing?"

"Just this…" Lando replied, grabbing Han around his waist and dipping him backwards, while planting a firm kiss on the man's lips. The next thing Lando knew was that, somehow, he ended up on the floor, his nose throbbing painfully, with Solo's blaster shoved under his chin.

"What. The. Hell?" Han snarled, shrugging off Wedge as the pilot tried to pull him back. Wes was laughing hysterically in the background, and fell off his chair as he grasped at his sides.

"It was a bet!" Lando explained, holding up one hand, while trying to stem the flow of blood from his nostrils with his other hand." Just a bet!"

"Whoever was the next one in the door, Lando had to kiss," Wedge added, desperately trying to avoid more bloodshed. "He was hoping for a beautiful woman."

"But he got you, instead!" Wes screeched out, rolling around on the ground and ignoring the snorts and snickers from the other bar patrons.

"Get up, Calrissian," Han snapped.

"I think I like it down here better. The view of the ceiling is charming." Besides, staying on the floor seemed much safer at this moment.

A disgusted expression crossed Han's face as he swiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. "Get up!"

"Han…" Wedge inserted. "It was just a stupid bet. A joke. Come on… you don't have to kill him."

"No. I won't kill him." A wicked grin spread across Han's face. "But I'd say he's gonna find out what it's like to kiss a Wookiee – real soon."

"You wouldn't!" Lando protested, sitting up and wincing from his broken proboscis.

Calmly, Han picked up a full glass of ale, then slowly trickled it over the gambler's head. "When you least expect it, Calrissian. When you least expect it."

"I gotta see that," Wes laughed, still holding his side.

Han grinned evilly, looking down at Wes. "_See _it? You'll do way more than _see_ it, Janson." With that, Han turned and left the bar, ignoring Wes's protests of innocence.

Wedge shook his head as he looked down balefully at a bloodied, ale-sodden Calrissian. "You can't say I didn't warn you. Does _anyone_ ever listen to me? Nope….never."

**THE END**


	19. The Torture at Bespin

These were the requirements for the challenge -

~ It must exactly be 942 words long (not included is this intro, or the title or 'THE END' with the word count)

~ Include a Hoojib or Hoojibs

~ A Shockstaff

~ A mousedroid named Alistair

~ Someone, at some point has to burst into a song by Elvis

~ There must be a noticeable costume change for one character, and it must be commented on.

~ Drastic data loss must occur, and there is no backup.

~ The word(phrase?) "brouhaha ha ha"

* * *

**The Torture at Bespin**

After the long journey to Bespin, the _Millennium Falcon _finally landed in what they hoped would be the safety of Cloud City.

"Where is everybody?" Leia asked worriedly as they exited the ship, followed closely by Threepio.

"See?" said Han, pointing at a group of people coming in their direction. "There's Lando now! I told you everything was going to be fine."

Chewie let out a concerned woof, and Leia nodded. "Why is your friend carrying that wicked looking shockstaff?"

"Uh, I'm not too sure," Han said worriedly as a scowling Lando approached, waving the weapon threateningly in Han's direction.

"You have a lot of nerve coming here after what you did!" shouted Lando.

"Look, Lando, that brouhaha… ha ha.. was a long time ago," Han said, laughing weakly as he tried to lighten the mood. "Where did you get that weapon, anyway?"

"This little old thing?" asked Lando. "Collecting fancy weapons is my hobby." Then Lando rushed forward, giving Han an unexpected embrace while Han cringed away from the shockstaff. "Aw, can't you take a joke, you big lug?" He leered at Leia. "Now, what do we have here?"

"Never mind," said Han, annoyed. "Can you fix up the Falcon's hyperdrive unit?"

"No problem," said Lando. "In the meantime, let me show you to your room."

* * *

Threepio tried desperately to keep pace with the fast moving humans, but he got left behind and was upset. Then he noticed a mouse-droid scurrying across the floor. "Hello!" cried Threepio. "I appear to need some assistance finding my way to the luxury suites!"

The mouse-droid stopped rolling, and let loose with a long, high-pitched whistle.

"What do you mean, I don't look like the sort that can afford the luxury suite?" responded Threepio. "That's presumptuous and rude. What is your name? I would like to report you to your supervisor."

The little droid squealed again, sounding annoyed.

"Alistair? What kind of name is that for a droid, anyway? Only butler droids have hoity-toity names like Alistair. I think you are lying to me."

The mouse-droid blatted and rolled away, leaving Threepio to find his own way. As he wandered aimlessly around Cloud City, he noticed something waving in his direction.

"Hey! I do believe you are a Hoojib. What is a cute little bunny like you doing on Bespin?" Threepio turned his head in confusion. "You want me to follow you into this closet? Certainly. I have nothing better to do."

* * *

"I wonder what happened to Threepio?" questioned Leia, looking toward the doorway in concern.

"I'm sure he's okay," Han said soothingly as he patted the couch, inviting her to sit down. "That red outfit you're wearing is really hot looking, Princess."

"No, it's quite comfortable, actually."

"Uh, no, that's not…"

Just then, Chewie burst into the room, carrying little pieces of Threepio inside of a box.

"What happened?" asked Leia, leaping up and rushing over to inspect the damage.

*I found him like this!* Chewie roared unhappily. *It's going to take me hours and hours to put him back together.*

"Are you sure you have to bother?" asked Han.

"Han!" Leia admonished. "Threepio has been very helpful."

"Speak for yourself," Han grumbled.

Lando swept into the room. "Join me for dinner?" He eyed the broken droid. "Are you having problems?"

"Nope. Why do you ask that?" Han said blithely as they followed the Baron to the dining room, and the terrible fate that awaited them.

* * *

"Please! Please!" Han screamed from inside the torture chamber. "Make it stop! I'll do anything to make it stop! AHHHHH!"

Lando stood on a small stage, looking down at his former friend who was strapped to a chair. "Is this really necessary?" he asked Vader.

"Do not question me, Calrissian!" Vader snapped. "Continue."

Lando sighed and fiddled with the dials. The room went dark, and a spotlight hit the Baron directly in his face. Then Lando curled his lip and shook his hips as he sang into a microphone,

"I've never looked for trouble  
But I've never ran,  
I don't take no orders  
From no kind of man,  
I'm only made out  
Of flesh, blood and bone,  
But if you're gonna start a rumble  
Don't you try it all alone!  
Because I'm evil, my middle name is misery  
Well I'm evil, so don't you mess around with me  
I'm evil, evil, evil, as can be…"

"CALRISSIAN!" roared Vader. "I do NOT like that song! Pick something else!"

"YES!" Han screamed in agony. "Make it stop!"

* * *

Han was dragged back to the prison cell, and dumped on the cold floor. He turned around and gazed up at the Princess, confusion written across his face. "What happened to your hot red outfit?"

"What red outfit?"

"The one you were wearing at dinner?" Han questioned.

"Oh, Han. I wasn't wearing a red outfit. You must be suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome."

"If you had to listen to Lando singing karaoke, you'd be having mental problems, too," Han grumbled.

*I think I have Threepio all fixed!* Chewie barked happily, turning on the switch next to the droid's head.

Threepio's eyes lit up, and he said, "Hoojibs! Hoojibs! Hoojibs!"

"Dear me," said Leia. "Poor Threepio must have had a drastic loss of data."

*And we don't have a memory backup, so it's probably permanent.*

"Aww," said Han sarcastically. "Isn't that a crying shame?"

Just then the door opened and Lando entered with his guards. "Sorry to tell you this, but Vader wants to freeze you in carbonite, pal."

"WHAT?" Han struggled to his feet, then hauled off and slugged Lando. "You could have done that BEFORE I had to listen to you sing!"

**THE END**


	20. The Dead Jedi Society

**The Dead Jedi Society**

"Hi honey, I'm home!" the ever cheerful Luke Skywalker called out as he stepped into the foyer of the noisy home.

"Daddy!" the cries of three rambuctious children called out as they came tearing around a corner, bed sheets trailing behind as capes.

Luke knelt down and hugged his boys, ages three, five and eight. "Hi, kids! Emeril, have you been putting on your mommy's lipstick again?" he asked the five year old.

"It's blood," Emeril declared defiantly. "Mommy doesn't care!"

"She does too," Kerby the eight year old argued. "She gets really mad everytime you wreck her makeup."

"And, just out of curiousity," Luke said indulgently, "where did you get the sheets?"

"Off our beds," Emeril said, before tearing away with the other two following after. They didn't seem to notice when the sheets tipped over a large lamp, sending the broken pieces flying in all directions. Of course, since the entire house looked like Gamorreans had spent the day having a wrestling match, one more broken object was hardly noticeable.

"You're cheating!" a girl's voice yelled out from the next room.

"No, I'm not! You're just too stupid to know how to play," another female argued back.

Deciding to try and break up the fight before it got started, Luke walked into the family room where his daughters were playing a violent video game. Putting his hands on his hips, he tried to glare at his thirteen-year old twin daughters. "What's going on in here?"

"Annita cheats!"

"No, I don't! You're stupid!"

"Now, Padtee." Luke laughed. "Don't call your sister stupid. It's not nice. Where is your mother?"

"I think she's in the kitchen."

Just then, a loud, screechy voice yelled over the intercomm. "Have you girls cleaned your bedroom yet? I swear, if I have to come in there..."

"Oh, there's the love of my life!" Luke called out happily as he left the two girls to continue playing. He knew they wouldn't clean up their bedroom - they never did.

As he entered the kitchen, Luke grinned broadly as his haggard looking wife tried feeding their twin six-month old boys, Ben and Gen. "Hello, my love!"

"What did you just call me?" Mara asked in a deadly voice. Her hair, once a beautiful red-gold, hung in limp, frizzy, orange-gray strands. "Are you being sarcastic?"

So it appeared she was in one of _those_ moods...Luke held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "I would never be sarcastic, my love. You are the best, most beautiful mother in the galaxy!" Of course, now that he looked carefully at her, he noticed she was letting herself go, just a little. "Did you comb your hair this morning?"

Mara stood up, dropping the spoonful of baby goop food. It clattered on the floor, making both babies start screaming at the top of their lungs. "Did - I - comb - my - hair?" She was frowning so hard, Luke wondered why he had never noticed her many crows-feet before now. Perhaps Palpatine was her father, as he had always suspected. After all, wrinkles seemed to be hereditary, right?

"It was just a little question," Luke yelled over the screaming babies. "The boys seem to have made their sheets dirty. You really should keep better track of what they do."

"WHAT?"

"I said..."

"I heard you, you, you... inconsiderate, worthless, meditating Jedi!" she screamed at him, picking up a small plate and throwing it at his head.

Using the Force, Luke sent the plate and its contents crashing into the far wall. "Mara! You're acting worse than our children."

"How dare you! I sit home all day long trying to take care of these brats you keep getting me pregnant with, and you dare to tell me I act worse than they do? Where are YOU all day long? Watching your stupid students train with their lightsabers and sitting around cross-legged and humming! And then you have the NERVE to come tell me I'm acting worse than the kids!"

"Maybe you should just cool off, my love. Why don't you go take a bath?"

"ARE YOU TELLING ME I STINK!?"

"Well... you have smelled better than sour milk in the past," he grinned at his wild-eyed wife. "When was the last time you put on clean clothes?"

"I don't have time to wash clothes!"

"Listen, my love, why don't you go take a nice, long relaxing bath while I feed the kids and put them to bed? You've had a hard day."

Glaring, Mara stalked out of the kitchen, only to hear Luke yell after her, "Did you make dinner, or do I have to cook, too?"

Much later, Mara sat on the edge of the bed trying to pull through the snarls in her wet hair. She looked up as Luke finally came in dragging. "Finally," he said. "I can't believe how those kids can argue and fight. It's a good thing I come home at night to put some discipline in their lives, isn't it, my love?"

"Yes, Luke," Mara said through clenched teeth.

Luke put his arms around his exhausted wife. "Why don't we make some nookie? We haven't done that in months."

Giving Luke a sultry smile, Mara turned to him. "Of course my love. There isn't anything I'd rather do! Shut your eyes and pucker up."

Leaning forward, Luke pursed his lips and waited. He barely heard the sound of Mara's lightsaber as she cut his head clean off. It rolled across the floor, lips still puckered.

Mara pushed the body off the bed with a thunk. "Another lousy thing I have to clean up in the morning."

**THE END**


	21. She Sees Dead People

**She Sees Dead People**

The worried looking older man tapped his writing instrument nervously against his pad as he read the report. "How are you feeling today, Princess Leia?" he asked politely.

"Fine," Leia responded curtly. "I don't know why I'm here."

The doctor cleared his throat before answering, "General Rieekan seems to think it's a good idea that you see me."

"General Rieekan is the one that needs a psychiatrist, not me."

"Well, assaulting members of the Alliance - "

"The scruffy-looking spice trader is NOT a member of the Rebellion," Leia shouted, then lowered her voice when she saw the doctor cringe. "Solo is a free-trader. He refuses to join us."

"So that gives you the right to strike him in the face whenever you feel so inclined?"

"Ha," Leia snapped back. "He's lucky I only hit him. I'd like to shoot him with my blaster. Right where he'd actually care."

"Don't you think that's a bit, um, of a violent response to his lack of commitment?" the doctor asked carefully.

Leia jumped off the sofa, and the doctor dropped his flimsies in fear. "That's just a tiny _part_ of his problem," Leia screeched out. "Solo does everything he can to get my all worked-up!"

"Don't you think you're a bit worked-up now?" the doctor squeaked out.

"General Rieekan is in cahoots with that cad," Leia continued to rant. "I think Solo is his long-lost son or something."

"That seems unlikely..."

"Or Solo is paying him to make me talk to you!"

"Well," the doctor admitted reluctantly, "Solo _did_ complain to General Rieekan... "

"I KNEW IT!"

"...that you've hit him countless times across his face..."

"He's exaggerating as usual," Leia replied frostily. "He just can't count."

"There are witnesses to these multiple events..."

"HE DESERVES IT!"

"And he did say if you don't stop the assaults, he's leaving the Rebellion for good," the doctor concluded in a rush.

"Good," Leia said, her lower lip quivering. "I hate that man."

"Apparently."

The Princess spun toward the doctor, her brown eyes narrowing. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you either hate him with a passion... or you love him with a passion."

Without warning, the Princess's hand flew out, striking the poor doctor across his face. "How dare you!"

The doctor rubbed his burning cheek, and stood up as he tried to put a safe distance between himself and the overwrought Rebel leader. "Did you ever see your father hit your mother?"

"What type of awful question is that?" Leia shot back hotly. "My father loved my mother. He'd never hit her."

"I'm just saying, that oftentimes violent behavior is learned from an early age by watching our parents."

"My father was not violent."

"What about your mother, then?"

"Never."

"But you must approve of hitting, correct?"

"I... I... never considered it," Leia admitted, suddenly ashamed. "I don't approve of physical violence. I'm sorry I hit you, Doctor."

"What about Captain Solo?"

"What about him?"

"Are you sorry for all the times you hit him, too?"

"He provokes me," Leia muttered. "On purpose."

"But you just told me you don't approve of violence," the doctor pointed out.

Leia sat down on the sofa with a thud, and buried her face in her hands, sobbing. "Why can't he join? Why can't he say he'll stay?"

"You don't want him to leave."

"I think I have feelings for him," Leia whispered. "But I can't."

"Why can't you?"

Looking up through tear-flecked eyelashes, Leia spluttered out, "He's a smuggler... I'm a Princess."

"Is that you talking? Or the ghosts of your aunts?"

Eyes wide, Leia asked, "How did you know?"

Confused, the doctor prodded, "Know what?"

"The ghosts of my aunts visit me every night," she said quietly, leaning forward. "They accuse me of betraying them..."

"You do know, Leia, that there are no such things as ghosts," the doctor said gently.

"Of course there are ghosts," Leia said, annoyed. "There's one standing behind you right now."

The doctor spun around and looked over his shoulder, but saw nothing. Looking back at the Princess, he said, "Have you considered taking medication?"

"I already do," Leia said haughtily. "I drink myself senseless every night. If that's not good medicine for what ails you, I don't know what is."

Looking at his watch, the doctor stood up. "Well, it was nice talking to you, Princess. I think I can safely report back to General Rieekan that you won't be hitting Solo anymore, right?"

"I don't hit Solo," Leia said, standing up. "I've never hit Solo. What are you talking about?"

"Nothing... nothing at all..." the doctor said, hurrying out of the room.

* * *

The 'doctor' paced the room, shaking his head. "That's one strange woman," he muttered. "Crazy as a rabid pleth-mouse. I'd advise you to stay away from her, Solo. You could have warned me about her temper."

"You were supposed to get her to apologize for all the times she's hit me, Seth," Han said, miffed. "But I guess getting her to admit she has feelings for me makes up for it."

"Why would you want a crazy woman to have feelings for you?" Seth, a former smuggler and new recruit for the Rebellion asked. "She sees dead people!"

"Are you sure that's what she said?" Han asked dubiously.

"Positive. And then she said she never hit you. Crazy. Crazy as a rabid pleth-mouse."

Han stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Ghosts, huh? Well, maybe I'd better keep my distance."

"You'll be glad you did," Seth agreed.

* * *

"Solo thinks he's so smart, setting me up to see a phony doctor," Leia said with a snort. "General Rieekan would never send me a flimsy ordering me to see a psychiatrist. I could tell that was forged the second I saw it."

Luke shook his head in dismay. "But telling the guy you see ghosts? Wasn't that going too far?"

Leia smiled. "Solo will think twice before he sets me off again. He'll never get me to apologize. Never."

"Never's a long time."

"WHAT?"

"Nothing," Luke said quickly.

"See? It's working already," Leia said smugly.

**THE END**


	22. Delusions of Grandeur

**Delusions of Grandeur**

Set between ANH and ESB

_Delusions of grandeur_, Han was thinking as he approached his ship, watching as his partner welded some errant part back onto the top of the saucer shaped freighter_. The kid thinks he's a Jedi. Stupid, hokey religion. No such thing as the Force, but will he believe me? Nooo, of course not._ _After two years with the Rebellion, you'd think the kid would have had some sense knocked into his head. Jedi, my eye. _No matter how many times Han tried to point out the error of Luke's ways, the kid always ignored his advice. It was such good advice, too. _If I didn't care about the kid, I'd just keep letting him practice with that stupid weapon instead of using with a good old blaster. Can't beat a blaster, if ya ask me._ Of course, it didn't help any that the Princess was always smiling at Luke, encouraging that Jedi nonsense. _Why doesn't she ever smile at me?_

"Chewie!" Han bellowed, looking up at the Wookiee. Chewbacca jumped in surprise, startled out of his deep concentration. By suddenly moving his foot, he knocked the hydrospanner sitting next to him, sending the heavy object skidding off the roof and sailing down to the ground below. Only there was something between the top of the_ Falcon _and the surface of Nagih, the latest Rebel base. Or more precisely, some_one_. Chewie roared in fear as the object glanced off the Corellian's head, and watched in horror as his human friend dropped to the ground without a sound.

*CUB!* Chewie quickly climbed down off the _Falcon_, and hurried over to his partner, cradling the unconscious man in his strong arms. Han was breathing, although a large, red welt was already forming on his forehead.

"Chewie?" a woman's voice called across the hanger. "What happened?"

The Wookiee looked up as Leia Organa rushed over, frowning down in concern at Solo. Chewie picked up the hydrospanner and pointed up at the top of the ship. Instantly, Leia understood. "Let's get him to the medcenter," she ordered, trying to keep the worry out of her voice. Why did these things always happen to Solo?

* * *

A while later.

Luke Skywalker knocked quietly on hospital door, stepping back a bit when it opened. "I heard about the accident. How's Han doing?"

The Princess folded her arms across her chest, looking back over her shoulder at the peacefully sleeping Corellian, and the Wookiee hovering over his bed. "He has a concussion, but the doctors think he'll be okay by morning. Sometimes that thick skull of his comes in handy."

"Is he awake?"

"Not yet," she answered, shaking her head. "They've given him medicine for the swelling. I'm sure he'll be fine." She sighed. "Poor Chewie, he's feeling very guilty about this."

"I'm sure it wasn't his fault," Luke pointed out. "Han's been knocked out more times than he can count. He won't be mad."

"When it comes to Solo, you never know. Let's go - we can't do any good waiting around in here."

* * *

Morning.

A panicked Wookiee rushed into the cafeteria very early the next morning, and hurried over to where Luke and Leia sat eating breakfast. *Where is Han? He was still asleep, so I stepped out for a snack, and when I came back a few minutes later, he was gone! It was only a few minutes!*

Luke and the Princess exchanged puzzled looks. "Threepio, can you come over here?" Luke called over to the droid. "We need an interpreter."

"Why, yes, Master Luke," the prim and proper droid replied, walking over to their table, followed by Artoo. "I am always happy to assist, since I am fluent in over six million languages."

*Where is Han?* Chewie repeated, grabbing the droid by his shoulders and shaking him.

"I am quite sure I haven't seen him, Master Chewbacca! Why would Captain Solo tell _me_ where he is going? I am fairly certain he does not even like me, although I cannot imagine why. I have been nothing but polite to him, if you ask me."

"Han's missing?" Luke asked, standing up.

*He left the medcenter when I was gone. No one saw him leave, and I cannot find him!*

Threepio turned his photoreceptors to Luke. "Captain Solo has turned up missing. He is a very inconsiderate human, I must say."

"Don't worry, Chewie," Luke tried soothing the worried Wookiee. "Han probably woke up and just got bored. You know how he hates hospitals. We'll help you look for him."

*I will go check the_ Falcon _again,* Chewie woofed as he hurried away.

Luke, Threepio, Artoo and Leia took different directions, spreading out to locate the missing pilot.

* * *

"Beerroop," Artoo warbled from behind the tall droid as they made their way over the sandy soil outside the main base.

"What did you say?"

Artoo swiveled his dome, and beeped again.

"Are you quite certain that is Captain Solo?" Threepio questioned, looking where the little astromech droid was 'pointing'. "He is acting very strangely - more so than usual, I might add."

"Vrreeep!"

"Well, fine! I was just asking. You don't have to be rude about it." The protocol droid made his way over to the Corellian, who was currently hitting low hanging branches with a large stick. Even stranger, Solo was wearing a brown blanket with a ragged hole cut out of the center, where his head stuck through, creating a poncho that hung to his knees. "Captain Solo! Captain Solo!"

The Corellian spun around, nearly hitting Threepio with the stick he was holding in both hands. "Are you talking to me?" he demanded.

"Yes, sir," the puzzled droid replied, taking a step back from the weapon. "You have made everyone quite concerned with regards to your whereabouts. What_ are _you doing, anyway?"

"I'm practicing my lightsaber dueling," Han snapped out. "What does it look like?"

"Actually, it looks like you are attempting to defoliage trees with a large stick," Threepio replied.

"SHUT UP! You don't talk to a Jedi like that!"

"Reeepppeeeo?"

The Corellian took a menacing step toward the little droid, waving the stick in his direction. "Yeah, I'm a Jedi Knight. Whose side you on, shorty?"

"Dear me, Artoo," Threepio said, backing away from the obviously defective Captain. "I think we should go find Master Luke. Immediately."

As the droids hurried away, Solo went back to swinging his stick at the innocent branches.

* * *

*Threepio must have misunderstood,* Chewie woofed out as the three hurried outside. *Han would never claim to be a Jedi.* The Wookiee shook his shaggy head - Han would be very annoyed at the droid for getting everyone upset.

As they entered the pretty meadow where Threepio had told them he'd last seen Han, they stopped in shock. "What's he doing?" Leia whispered to Luke.

"It looks like he's... meditating," Luke whispered back as he observed his normally boisterous friend sitting cross-legged in the middle of the field, eyes shut, humming tunelessly.

*MEDITATING!*

Han's eyes snapped open. "I knew you were here, you know. You can't sneak up on a Jedi."

"You think you're a Jedi?" Leia asked, incredulously.

Jumping to his feet, Han snatched up his stick. "Of course ... I'm Han Skywalker, the Last Jedi Knight. Let's practice lightsaber dueling."

*Han... you must return to the medcenter. You are ill.*

"I'm NOT ill!" Han yelled. "I'm a Jedi, we all act like this!" He waved his stick around wildly. "See? I even have a lightsaber."

"That's a stick, not a lightsaber," Leia said. "I think you need to lay off the whiskey, Solo."

"Leia, it must have been the blow to his head," Luke said quietly. "Maybe we should humor him."

"Whiskey?" Han yelled, pointing at Luke. "I don't drink, unless that mean smuggler makes me." He smiled shyly at Leia, kicking at the ground with his toe. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. What's your name, anyway?"

The Princess's eyes grew wide, and she looked over at Luke, who nodded encouragingly. "Uh... Leia Organa."

"Leia Organa.." Han said, dreamily. "That's the most beautiful name in the galaxy, too." He looked over at Leia, a dopey lopsided smile plastered on his face. "I think I'm in love with you."

"What?"

"Leia," Luke hissed out. "Humor him."

"Oh, okay!" She glared at Solo. "I ... I think I love you, too."

"Ha!" Han started dancing around, swinging his 'lightsaber', stopping for a second, and sticking his tongue out at Luke. "See? She does love me, and not you! A Jedi always wins over a stupid smuggler. Nah, nah!"

Stepping forward, Luke put his arm around Han's shoulders. "How would you like it if Chewie an' me taught you how to play sabacc? Sabacc is a real man's game."

Frowning suspiciously, Han tried to move out of Luke's grip. "I'm a real man. I hardly ever whine anymore."

Ignoring that comment, Luke continued to push Han toward the base where the_ Falcon _was parked. Eventually, they entered the ship, and Chewie retrieved the playing cards.

"I think I've played this game before," Han said, watching Chewie deal. "You must have already taught me to play."

"A little bit, but you're not very good. You need to practice. A lot."

So all four played sabacc. Hours and hours worth of sabacc, until Han could barely keep his eyes open.

"Well, I'm out," Leia remarked glumly, throwing down her last hand. She nodded at Han's large stack of metal nuts and bolts. "It looks like you wiped us out, Jedi Han."

"And here I thought I was the greatest sabacc player in the galaxy," Luke said, keeping in his role of smuggler and Captain of the _Falcon_. "It looks like you get the girl AND all the winnings, Jedi."

"I think I'd better go back to my quarters," Han mumbled tiredly.

"No, just sleep in the spare bunk," Luke put in quickly. "Like you usually do when you stay this late."

"Oh. Okay." Han stumbled to his feet, then stopped and smiled down at the Princess, shuffling his feet and coughing nervously. "Thanks for being so nice, Leia Organa. I'm glad you love me and not _him_."

"You're welcome," she replied, standing up. Leia gave Han a quick kiss on the cheek. "Have a nice night, Jedi Han."

"Aw, shucks, Leia. You're the greatest, smartest, most beautiful girl in the galaxy." He turned and hurried away.

Luke glared at the retreating smuggler, then looked over at Leia, who smiled sweetly back at him. "I do NOT talk like that!"

* * *

The next morning.

"Where's Han?" Leia whispered to Chewie as she entered the_ Falcon._

*I just heard him leave the refresher,* Chewie replied, tilting his head down the curved corridor.

"Does he still think he's a Jedi?"

*I have not spoken to him yet,* Chewie woofed, shrugging his shoulders to indicate he didn't know the answer.

Leia made her way down the hall, knocking softly on the spare door.

"You looking for someone?" Han's voice said from behind her.

Startled, Leia turned around and faced the Corellian, who was dressed in his usual white shirt and black slacks. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well... yesterday..." She trailed off, not knowing how to continue.

"Yesterday? What happened yesterday?"

"Do you know who you are?"

"I don't know. Who am I?"

She looked up in his eyes, and saw amusement dancing in his hazel eyes. "Last time I checked, you were a scruffy looking nerf-herder who thought he was a Jedi."

Han started laughing. "A Jedi? Listen, sweetheart, if I ever think I'm a Jedi, you have my permission to lock me up in a padded cell."

"Too bad I didn't know that," Leia shot back. "Because you'd be sitting in that padded cell right now." She sighed, then added, "Thank the Force that you're back to normal - at least what passes as _normal_ for you, flyboy." Then she turned and stalked off the ship.

_But if I had been normal yesterday, then you wouldn't have given me a kiss, Princess_.

**THE END**


	23. Blue Milk and Mouse Droids

**BLUE MILK AND MOUSE DROIDS**

Luke knocked on Leia's door very early in the morning. When there was no answer, he pressed his finger on the buzzer, not letting up until the door slid open, revealing a frazzled looking Princess in a thick bathrobe, her hair wrapped in a large towel.

"Just WHAT do you THINK you're - oh, it's just you," she snapped, turning around and hurrying away from the doorway.

Her brother quickly followed behind, carrying a package. "Who did you think it was?"

"Han."

"Han? The same Han that you're getting married to in four hours? That Han?"

Leia stopped so fast and spun around to face Luke that he almost ran into her. "Yes," she growled out. "Why?"

"Well... you just seem a bit testy toward someone you're getting married to in a few hours," he pointed out, backing away from the lasers that seemed to be shooting out of her eyes. "Are you having a fight on your wedding day?"

"NO!" she yelled, and then repeated in a softer tone. "No... we're not arguing. I just told him it's an Alderaanian tradition for the groom not to see the bride, and he keeps bothering me anyway. He can be such a nerf." She glared at Luke again. "You're supposed to be making sure Han gets ready. Why are you HERE?"

"Chewie's the Best Man, err, Wookiee," Luke argued. "Isn't that_ his _job?"

Leia rolled her eyes. "Right. Sure. Chewie's been Han's friend for too long, he's corrupted. If Han's late, or dressed wrong, it's your fault, brother."

"My fault," Luke mumbled. "Everything is _always_ my fault..."

"Oh, quit it. You sound like Threepio," Leia said, smirking. "So, why are you here, anyway?"

Luke had almost forgotten the reason he'd come over. Smiling, he held up his package. "I came to give you this."

Frowning, Leia took the small carton and opened it up, peering inside. "What is it?"

"Milk. Blue milk."

"Why?"

"Well, according to Tatooine tradition, the bride and the groom are both suppose to drink a glass of blue milk before they get married," Luke explained to his sister.

"Why?"

"I don't know," Luke replied, exasperated. "It's just a tradition. Why does Alderaanian tradition say the groom can't see the bride?"

"Why would I have to drink blue milk?" Leia shot back. "I'm not from Tatooine."

"Fine," Luke said, snatching back his milk, irritated. "Don't drink it. See if I care."

Obviously, he cared enough that Leia had managed to offend him. "Give me that blue milk!" the Princess yelled, grabbing it back and stalking off into the kitchen with Luke rushing behind her. She promptly poured a large glass and gulped it down. It tasted completely disgusting, but Leia held her breath and finished it anyway. "There! Are you happy now?" She put the lid back on and shoved it back at Luke.

"Yes," Luke said, beaming. "Thank you."

"Get out of my apartment, brother. Now!"

* * *

Han was sitting in a chair, a cold compress against his forehead, when Luke came barging onboard the_ Falcon_.

"Hi, Han!"

"Shut up," the Corellian muttered, not taking the compress off his eyes.

"You should be getting ready," Luke pointed out helpfully. "It's only three hours until your wedding."

"I'm gonna kill Lando and Wedge," Han whispered. "Just as soon as I can move out of this chair."

"They didn't make you drink and play cards all night," Luke pointed out cheerfully. "I told you not to get drunk. You should have listened to me. Getting drunk before your wedding night is stupid, anyway."

"It's not stupid... it's a Corellian tradition. I'm gonna add you to the list of people I'm gonna kill if you don't shut up."

"Anyway," Luke continued, unfazed by the death threat. "I'm going to go get a glass and pour you some blue milk."

The Corellian didn't respond, so Luke hurried into the galley and grabbed a cup, then poured the milk. When he returned, Han hadn't budged, so Luke poked his shoulder with his finger. "Here, have a glass of milk."

That inspired Han to move the cloth slightly. He cracked one eye open, looking up at Luke. "Why, in all the hells of Corellia, would you think I want milk? Is this some sort of hangover cure?"

"It's a tradition on Tatooine for the bride and the groom to drink a glass of blue milk before they walk down the aisle. Leia drank it, so now you have to, too."

"Drink it yourself," Han replied, putting the cloth back over his eyes.

"HAN! You have to!"

"Quit yelling!" Han yelled. "I ain't drinking no blue milk, 'cuz I ain't from Tatooine, and I hate milk of any color."

"It doesn't matter... if you don't, I'll... I'll..."

By this time, Han had removed the cloth and jumped to his feet, glaring down at his Jedi friend. "What?"

Luke backed away, looking a bit nervous. "I'll tell Chewie?"

"Drink it yourself," Han repeated, then started down the corridor. "I have to start getting ready for the wedding."

"But..." Luke tried to argue. Frowning he raised the milk to his lips and took a sip...then promptly spit it out. "Yuck!" He looked in the cup, then gave it a sniff. "When did_ this _turn sour?"

* * *

Threepio peered down at the two dozen mouse droids, all scurrying around the huge banquet hall. "Artoo, I must say, those droids don't appear to have any idea how to properly clean this carpet. They are leaving dust all over, and it's only two hours until the big event."

"Areebeepee."

"Princess Leia will be most displeased if her wedding is ruined by a dusty carpet. I think we should be doing our part to make this day go smoothly, don't you agree?"

Artoo gave a suspicious warble at his golden friend.

"I just think we, and by we I mean you, should reprogram these droids, so they understand the importance of a clean floor."

"Wreereeoo."

"I will gather them up, plug them in to a control socket. You can take it from there," Threepio replied, hurrying off after one of the mouse droids. "You... I said, you there! Stop at once!" The little droid spun around, nearly tripping the protocol droid as it headed in the opposite direction. "I say..." Threepio called out, as he turned around and followed it. "Stop, you worthless little..."

* * *

While Winter carefully braided her long chestnut locks, Leia felt herself getting sicker and sicker. "I think I'm going to throw up," she finally said.

Winter looked at Leia's face in the mirror. She did appear rather ... green. "It's just nerves, Leia. All brides get nervous."

"I don't feel nervous... I feel nauseated."

"Maybe it's something you ate," she suggested. "Or drank."

"Like blue milk," Leia said, putting her hand up to her lips.

"Blue milk?"

Leia jumped to her feet, and ran toward the refresher. "I'm going to kill Luke," she managed to say right before the door slammed shut.

* * *

"There!' Threepio declared, sounding very pleased with himself. "All the mouse droids are plugged in, and now you can fix their programming."

"Veerreebbee," Artoo protested loudly.

"Of course you can reprogram them! How hard could that possibly be? Do you _want_ to have Master Han and Mistress Leia's wedding day ruined by dust?"

Reluctantly, the little droid plugged his 'arm' into the control socket, and made some adjustments. The little mouse droids all started beeping and shaking at once, trying to pull free of the plugs.

"Artoo!" Threepio said, thunking the little astromech droid on his dome. "What are you doing? I said reprogram them, not kill them!"

The blue and white droid gave a long series of beeps and moans at his tall partner, protesting that he was doing the best he could, under the circumstances.

"Your best? This is your_ best_? I am very disappointed in you, Artoo. Deeply disappointed."

Artoo pulled his 'arm' out of the plug, and rolled away, still beeping.

"Artoo! Where are you going? These droids still need to be reprogrammed!" Threepio yelled after his friend.

"Blleeppeeppo!"

"Reprogram them myself?" Threepio asked, drawing back in surprise. "How rude!" He turned his yellow photoreceptors down at the lined up mouse droids. "Well, I guess I will have to do it myself... just like always."

* * *

"Where is Han?" Lando asked, looking around the_ Falcon's _hold. "Someone must have kidnapped him, and replaced him with this imposter."

"Very funny, Calrissian," Solo growled out, trying to adjust his necktie. "I hate formal wear. I look like an idiot."

"No you don't," Lando argued. "You look suave... like me."

"Like I said, an idiot." Han sat down, tugging on his newly polished boots over the light gray slacks. "I don't know why we couldn't have just had a small wedding. No, we can't do that," Han said, making his voice high and whiny. "Leia's a princess, and an icon of the New Republic. So we have to put on the wedding of the century." He glared over at a silent Wookiee. "Those are the exact words of Mon Mothma, I'll have you know."

*It's just one day, cub. It will be over soon,* Chewie woofed.

"I know..." Han shook his head. "I still wish we could just have gotten married in front of a few friends, and not the entire galaxy. Do you know Leia's gotten dozens of wedding proposals since we announced our engagement? All those guys think they could be a better husband than me, and they don't even know her."

"You've gotten a few proposals yourself, Han," Lando pointed out. "It's not like Leia's looking for someone else. Although I don't know why not."

"Funny, Calrissian. You're just a barrel of laughs today."

They turned their heads as Luke rushed into the hold. "Leia's sick!"

"Sick?" Han asked, leaping up, his eyes wide with concern. "How sick?"

"Winter just commed me. She said she was pretty sick. I think that blue milk was kinda bad."

"WHAT?"

Luke backed away, holding up his hands. "I didn't know... it's not my fault!"

* * *

Winter held the damp cloth against Leia's forehead as they sat in the refresher. "Are you feeling any better?"

"A little," she replied, holding her stomach. "What time is it?"

"Nearly one," Winter replied. "Can you still go through with this?"

"I'm getting married today, if it's the last thing I do." Leia stood up, swaying a bit. "Get me in that dress, Winter. Solo might have had some close calls in his life, but this is one time he's not escaping. I'm soldering those chains of matrimony around his neck so tight in the next hour, he won't be able to breath without my permission."

"That's the spirit, Princess!" Winter said happily as she went to retrieve twenty pounds of silk and beads.

* * *

Threepio looked down in joy as the last mouse droid was unplugged and scurried away. "Now, you make certain every last speck of dust is off this floor... do you hear me?" He watched in satisfaction as the droids hummed away, moving into even the tightest corners.

Then a high pitched squeal caught his attention. Two mouse droids were in one corner, fighting over a dust bunny. One would move forward, then the second one tried to block its way. The squealing got louder.

"Hey, there! You two!" Threepio called out. "Quit fighting. There's enough dust to go around."

The little droids started butting heads, banging violently into each other. Threepio shuffled over to the noisy pair. "Stop that at once," Threepio ordered. "This is most unacceptable."

The little droids spun around, and moved in unison toward Threepio's ankles. "HEY! What do you think..." Staggering, the protocol droid tried moving away, only to see other droids busy fighting each other. "Wait..."

Then a loud crash sounded as a long white table cloth was pulled down, sending plates, silverware and candles to the carpet. "What do you think..." Threepio yelled out. Then a second table cloth was pulled off, a small mouse droid busy tugging at the hem. "WAIT!" He looked in horror as four mouse droids headed for the ice sculpture, crashing against the base, sending it tilting. Threepio tried... he truly tried to make it on time, but the elegant carved ice bird hit the ground, sending ice shards in all directions. "NOOOO!"

Threepio could only stare in shock and horror as the banquet room was turned upside down. Unnoticed, in the corner of the room, a small mouse droid had become entangled in one of the white tablecloths, and his little wheels were starting to smoke as he desperately tried to free himself. Then the smoke turned into a tiny flame... that spread and spread and spread.

* * *

"I now pronounce you husband and wife, " General Rieekan declared, smiling down at the radiant couple. _Well, okay_, he thought to himself. _Maybe they did both look a bit peaked and woozy. But they'd managed to get through the vows without too many miscues._

Han leaned forward and kissed his bride, then whispered in her ear. "How are you feeling?"

"Never better," Leia replied, feeling a bit guilty at the lie since her stomach was still queasy. She turned to face the cheering crowd.

Supporting each other, they made their way down the wide aisle, then headed to the balcony to smile and wave at the masses of people standing outside the cathedral. As they stood and waved, Han's attention was drawn to another large building not very far away. Black smoke poured from the windows and fire equipment was spraying foam into the building.

"Leia?" Han said, pressing one hand into his wife's side and pointing with his other. "Isn't that the hotel you rented for our wedding reception?"

The Princess's eyes grew wide. "Oh, no... what's happened?"

"I'd say they're having some problems, wouldn't you?"

"What are we going to do for our wedding dinner?"

"I know a quiet little restaurant not too far from here," Han suggested. "Great food, nice music. It doesn't even need reservations."

"What about everyone else?" she asked, thinking about the hundreds of guests, since eating still wasn't sounding very appealing.

"I'd say, every being for himself," Han chuckled. Suddenly, the upcoming evening was looking better and better.

* * *

Artoo rolled up to a very agitated Threepio, who was covered in foam and quite distressed. "It's all my fault!" the droid moaned out. "I've ruined the most important day of Mistress Leia and Master Han's life... I will be dismantled or memory wiped. I just know it!"

The astromech droid peered past his partner and looked into the destroyed banquet room. Two dozen melted mouse droids could be seen among the smoldering ruins. Artoo gave a sad beep. Such destruction, such a senseless waste of droids. He turned to the golden droid and shot out a arc of electricity, hitting Threepio in the knee.

"Ow!" Threepio yelled. "Why did you do that?"

"Treppeppi!"

"Those were _not_ your little cousins, you little trouble maker! Ow! OW!" Threepio turned and hurried away from the charges that Artoo kept shooting in his direction. "OW! Stop that... Master Luke is going to dismantle you, you - OW!"

* * *

Much later, Leia and Han slowly danced in each other's arms, far away from all of the prying eyes of the galaxy. "Han," Leia said, looking up at her husband. "Thank you. This has been very lovely night. You were right, this is a very nice restaurant."

"Ah, I was right," Han said, his eyes twinkling. "I can't tell you how long I've waited to hear those words."

"Are you telling me you'd rather hear me say, 'You're right', instead of 'I love you'?"

"I know you love me, sweetheart," Han said with a laugh. "I'm much less sure how often you think I'm right about something."

"That's true," Leia conceded, smiling. "You probably won't be right about something for at least another ten years."

"But you'll love me anyway, right?"

"Right, again. For the second time in the same day. You're scaring me, Han."

"I'd much rather excite you, Princess" he said, kissing her neck. "Whoever is responsible for that fire, has my undying gratitude."

"Mine, too."

**THE END**


	24. The Date

**The Date**

The _Falcon_ landed on the rebel base with a grace that would surprise those that did not know the ship or her Captain. Han Solo and Chewie were returning from picking up munitions that the Rebels badly needed in the fight against the Empire. General Rieekan and Luke Skywalker stood waiting near the ramp as Han exited.

"Did you have any problems, Captain Solo?" the General asked with concern. He had warned the smuggler about the extra danger that this run might have. In typical fashion, Han's only response had been to ask for more credits.

"Nah, nothing me and Chewie couldn't handle," Han replied casually. "Those boxes are heavy. We'll need some help unloading."

"No problem, Solo," Rieekan replied. "Thank you for making this run. The Rebellion appreciates it."

"I'd rather have the appreciation of a certain royal, if ya get my drift." Han smiled at the General.

General Rieekan and Luke exchanged a strange look before Rieekan cleared his throat and said, "I'll go get you help with the unloading." He quickly turned and walked off.

Han looked at his young friend. "Hey, kid," he greeted Luke enthusiastically. "What was that all about?"

Luke shuffled his feet and looked down. "Hi, Han. What was what all about?"

Han frowned. "That little look you and the General just gave each other when I mentioned her worshipfulness," Solo elaborated.

"Ah, nothing," Luke said sullenly.

"Nothing? Come on and spill it, kid. Is the Princess alright?" Han was getting a little bit worried, but he covered his words with a smirk. He didn't want anyone to think he actually _cared._

"She's fine, Han, she's..." Luke trailed off, not knowing how to say this without sounding whiney. So he just sighed and looked at his friend. "She's on a date."

Han was dumbfounded. For a few moments he could not think of anything to say. "A _date_?" he finally spluttered. "With a_ man_?"

Luke didn't look any happier than Han. "Yeah. That's the way it usually works, Han."

"Well, ya don't have to be sarcastic," Han replied, suddenly irritated beyond words. _Why_ he felt so irritated was something he didn't want to contemplate too deeply.

"Oh, _you _should talk!" Luke snapped back.

"With who?"

"What?"

"Who did the Ice Princess decide was worthy of her attention?"

"Some old boyfriend from when she was about fifteen or sixteen years old," Luke mumbled. "Her first love, or so she claims."

Han's eyes grew wide with disbelief. "Love? She loves this guy?" Han spun on his heels and began stalking back up the ramp of his ship.

"Han!" Luke yelled after him.

"What?" Solo snapped as he turned around abruptly.

"Where are you going?"

"To get drunk. Wanna join me?"

Luke hesitated for a second, then replied, "Sure. Sounds like the best idea I've heard all day."

* * *

The next morning.

Leia cautiously made her way up the ramp of the_ Falcon_. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Chewie rounded the corner and almost collided with her. "Chewie!" she gasped. "You startled me."

Chewie growled his agreement, even though the Princess could not understand his exact words.

"Have you seen Luke or Han?" Leia asked the Wookiee. Chewie wuffed his amusement and lead the Princess into the hold of the ship. Both men lay sprawled on the cold floor, snoring, with empty bottles of alcohol strewn about.

Leia put her hands on her hips and frowned. Han Solo was definitely a bad influence on Luke. She turned to the Wookiee.

"Why are they both so sloshed?" she asked, the disapproval in her voice evident. Chewie shrugged his broad shoulders and left the room briefly. When he returned he was carrying two tall glasses of ice cold water. He handed the Princess a glass and pointed to both men. "I'll take the scruffy one, if you don't mind," she said, smiling at Chewie in understanding. Chewie nodded and tossed the water into Luke's face, while Leia did the same to the Corellian. Both men instantly sat up, gasping in shock at the rude awakening.

"What the hell?" Han shouted as he struggled to his feet.

"Hey!" Luke sat up, wiping water from his face.

Leia and Chewie both burst into laughter.

"Keep it down," Han moaned, holding his head. He sincerely wished the room would stop spinning around. "Why did you have to do that?"

"There didn't seem to be any faster way to wake you two bums," Leia said, still laughing as Han glared at her. Han knew he was mad at her, but at the moment, he couldn't remember why.

"How was your date, Leia?" Luke asked as he carefully stood.

Oh yeah... _That_ was why he was mad at her. "Did your old boyfriend get some action last night, Princess?" Han goaded.

Leia stopped laughing and gave Solo her best frosty stare. "Just because that's_ your _version of a date, Solo, doesn't mean it's mine." She turned to Luke. "Is that the reason you both got drunk? Because I had a date?"

"No!" Han said quickly.

"Yes," Luke admitted at the same time.

"Good goddess! You two are unbelievable. You got drunk because I had dinner with an old friend?"

Luke had the grace to look embarrassed. "General Rieekan told me he was someone you loved."

"Wait a second, kid," Han objected. "You told me_ Leia _said it was an old love."

"No, that's not what I meant..." Luke started to say.

Leia started laughing again. "He's an old friend. I never loved Wade! And incidentally, his _wife _was on this _date_, too," she said, wiping tears of laughter away. "I can't believe this...you two are jealous!" With that, the Princess turned and left.

As she walked down the ramp, she heard Solo yell after her, "I am NOT jealous!" All Han and Luke heard was the Princess's loud laughter in response.

**_THE END_**


	25. Leia Cooks

**Response to a challenge where the characters only used one syllable words.**

* * *

**Leia Cooks**

Han sniffed the room as he entered the front door, wondering what strange odor was permeating the large apartment. "I'm home," he yelled as he took off his jacket, tossing it carelessly over the back of a chair. He sniffed again, trying to identify the smell, but the exact origin eluded him.

A panicked looking Princess hurried out of the kitchen, her hair half unbraided and tumbling down her back. The apron she wore was covered in a wide variety of unidentifiable stains. **"**You're home," she stuttered in surprise. She hadn't been expecting him for several more hours, since yesterday he'd complained how much work he had to do on the _Falcon._

"Yeah, I think I just said that," Han agreed, looking at her suspiciously. "What's that odd smell?"

Leia shot a guilty glance over her shoulder. "Smell? What smell?"

Han frowned, glancing over at the kitchen door where the smell was wafting from, and noted Leia's trepidation. "Don't tell me," Han said worriedly. "You're not - "

"What if I am?" she interrupted defensively. "Is that so bad?"

"Uh...yes?"

Furious, Leia stalked up to her husband, waving a charred spatula in his face. "All the men I know eat what their wives cook, or else! Luke eats what his bride cooks... why can't you?"

"It's not my fault you can't cook to save your life," Han argued, backing away from the dangerous utensil. "And Luke's so whipped, he'll chow down on all the grub she plops on his plate. He's not the best case to point out."

"Oh... you'll eat what I put in front of you, if you care to save _your_ life."

"Are you sure that won't _end _my life?" Han looked around the room. "By the way, where's that dumb droid?"

"Why?" Leia questioned suspiciously, wondering why Han would care about Threepio.

Grinning, Han put his hands gently on Leia's shoulders. "He can cook a meal more fit to eat than you can."

"How dare you!" Leia said in annoyance, shrugging his hands off. She quickly turned away, holding her hands up to her face.

"Aww.. come on," Han cajoled, realizing he'd probably gone too far with his teasing. What was a little indigestion, anyway? The meal probably wouldn't be fatal, even if it kept him awake all night. "Don't be mad. I'll eat it."

The Princess looked up at Han and smiled. "Good. I know you'll like it once you taste it."

"I'm sure I will," Han lied agreeably, wiping a streak of flour off Leia's cheek with his thumb. He leaned over and kissed her slowly, wrapping his arms around her and lingering in the soft sweetness of his wife. A loud alarm sounded, making them jump apart in surprise.

"What's that noise?" Leia yelled over the screeching din.

Han looked over at the kitchen. Black smoke poured from the doorway. "Fire!" He rushed around the apartment, looking in closets and checking behind curtains.

_What in the galaxy is Han looking for_? Leia wondered. Since he hadn't eaten dinner yet, his bizarre behavior couldn't be the result of food poisoning.

"I need to find that spray-the-fire thing!" Han shouted loudly, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. "You know what I mean... the can that spits out foam!"

Ahhh... the_ extinguisher_! "It's next to the stove, you nerf!"

Squinting through the smoke, Han rushed into the smoke-filled kitchen, grabbing the extinguisher and pulling the release as orange fire licked upwards from the once shiny oven. A stream of white foam quickly covered the appliance. Then Han pulled the oven open and sprayed the flaming remains of what had been masquerading as an edible meal only moments before.

"Is it safe in here yet?" Leia yelled over the painfully loud alarm, fanning the billowing clouds with her apron.

"Let some fresh air in the room," Han instructed as he pointed at the window. He disconnected the smoke alarm as Leia opened the windows and aired the apartment out.

Leia walked over and looked into the oven at her blackened meal, shaking her head in dismay. "It was nerf steak. You love nerf steak."

"I like my steak rare," Han replied, grinning at her. "This is way too well done for my taste."

"I guess you're right.. can't cook to save my life," Leia said with a sigh.

"No dear, you can't, but it's not much of a flaw. I still love you." He gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head, then suggested, "Let's go out to eat."

"Fine," she agreed, conceding defeat. "Next time ... you cook the steaks."

**THE END**


	26. Mission to Mustafar

**Mission to Mustafar**

Leia shoved the shiny map at her husband. "The Mission to Mustafar is this way," she insisted, pointing at the flimsy.

"No," Han argued as he shifted little Anakin in his arms. "It's past the Big Snowy Mountain."

"Are you blind?" Leia snapped, brushing back a strand of sweat-soaked hair. "We need to head past the Jungle, and then through the tunnel."

"We just _came_ from that way!"

"I wanna go to the Big Snowy Mountain," six year-old Jacen said, tugging at his mother's shirt.

The Princess forced a smile on her face. "You can't go on the Mountain. You're too young."

"What about me?" Jaina asked hopefully.

Leia sighed. "You're too young, too."

"I gotta go wee-wee," Anakin complained.

"Maybe you can go wee-wee in the Jungle," Han muttered under his breath, which made the twins laugh.

"Han!" Leia admonished. "We're going back toward the Jungle, and that's the end of this discussion." She smiled at little Anakin. "You can go wee-wee in a few minutes."

"Not if we go back the way we came," Han grumbled. "You should listen to me… Corellians can't get lost."

"How many times have I heard that?"

"I'm hungry!" Jaina said. "Why can't we eat?"

"Because your father is lost," Leia explained.

"I am not!" Han said loudly, which made Anakin start crying.

"Can we visit daddy's Pirate friends again?" Jacen asked hopefully. "That was fun."

"Those were _not_ my friends," Han informed his eldest son, miffed. "Don't believe everything your mother says."

"My feet hurt and I'm hot," Jaina gripped.

"We'll be there in a little while," Leia said soothingly, then glared at Han. "Now that we're finally going the correct direction… _away_ from the Big Snowy Mountain."

Ten hot minutes later, Leia pointed up in triumph. "Look… the tunnel." She smiled. "Once we're through, all we have to do is head to the right, and we'll be right at Mission to Mustafar."

As they emerged from the tunnel, Han glared at his wife. "This isn't Mission to Mustafar…. it's the Asteroid Belt."

"It must be a different tunnel," Leia muttered, staring at the map.

"The Asteroid Belt?" Jaina whined. "That's boring."

"I like the Asteroid Belt!" Jacen protested.

"I gotta go wee-wee," Anakin repeated so loudly that he drew stares from strangers.

"There's a refresher," Leia said, relieved. "I'll take him."

Han watched his wife leave with Anakin. "How about we find some food?"

"I want a Nerf ice-cone!" Jaina said, pointing to a large umbrella.

"I think your mom will want you to eat food, not sweets."

"I WANNA ICE-CONE!"

"Fine," Han groused. "Come on." After he'd purchased both twins chocolate dipped cones shaped like nerfs, Leia returned with Anakin.

"Han! What are you doing?"

"They wanted something to eat," he said defensively.

"We have lunch reservations at the Lava Pit," Leia pointed out.

"The Lava Pit is at the Mission to Mustafar, and we don't know where that's at, because we made the wrong turn," Han said smugly. "We needed to go past the Big Snowy Mountain."

"I want to go on the Big Snowy Mountain," Jacen informed them firmly.

"I already told you," Leia said tightly. "You're too small."

"Am not!"

"Now will you go the way I suggested?" Han grumbled.

"This is still the right direction," Leia insisted, shifting the colorful map around. "We just need to keep going."

"Look," Jaina said, pulling at Han's fingers. "There's something called Raiders of the Lost Jedi… let's go on that!"

"It's Uncle Luke!" Jacen added happily.

Leia moved forward, staring at the advertisement. "That hologram _does_ look a lot like Luke."

"They put Luke's likeness in a ride and not mine?" Han asked, offended.

"You're not a Jedi."

"Whatever," Han grumbled. "We'll go on that after we eat."

"This way," Leia ordered her family as she led them toward a blue castle, which also had a tunnel through the middle of it. "Right there," she said, pointing. "The Mission to Mustafar. And the Lava Pit is right inside."

"Okay! Han snapped. "You were right. Once. Are you happy?"

Leia smiled down at the crowded village. "I'll be much happier once we find our landspeeder."

"We parked it in the Happy Bantha lot," Han said with certainty.

"No, we didn't," Leia disagreed. "We parked it in the Roaring Rancor lot."

"I gotta go poo," Anakin informed them.

"I hate Dizzy Land," Han groused out as they pushed their way through the tightly packed amusement park and headed toward the Mission to Mustafar.

**The End**


	27. Overcompensation

**Overcompensation**

Lando was so proud, he felt about to burst apart at the seams. Quickly he hustled his guests in the large, overly bright hanger, smiling as Tendra handed Luke, Mara, Han and Leia glasses of bubbling, expensive white wine. The Baron picked up a second, unopened bottle, holding it out and inspecting the label. Yes, only the very best would do for this occasion.

"What's this all about, Calrissian?" Mara grumbled, taking the wine and sniffing it suspiciously.

"I kinda think it has something to do with that covered up big thing sitting in the center of the room," Han grunted, taking a big mouthful of the wine.

"Don't gulp that down," Lando admonished the Corellian. "It's five hundred credits a bottle!"

Leia's eyes drifted over to the 'thing' Han was referring to. It was, indeed, very big, and very long. Certainly much larger than an X-Wing, and from here, it looked larger than even the _Millennium Falcon_. And it was covered with a white tarp, so no one could tell what was underneath.

"Lando won't even tell me what this is all about," Tendra complained good-naturedly. "He insists he has to unveil his 'baby' so everyone can see it at the same time."

"Baby?" Luke questioned, raising his eyebrow.

"That's what he calls it," Tendra said with a laugh. "I've had to put up with his secret plans for over a year now."

"Ah," Han said, nodding. "He bought a new ship, so now we're here so he can show it off."

"Of course," Mara muttered, nevertheless sipping the wine. If she had to put up with Lando's bragging, she fully intended to lessen the pain with wine.

Walking toward the covered object, Lando spun around as he stood next to his 'baby', grinning like an overspiced Gammorean. "Tendra is quite right," he announced grandly. "I've made this my obsession now for the past year. I've personally designed every single detail, and oversaw its construction from beginning to end." He grandly waved his arm to indicate the covered object. "This... is my new ship!" Lando pulled at the tarp, and the thin material fell away from the shiny ship. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present the_ Tendra!"_

Silence filled the room as the five people gaped at the ship. Han cleared his throat, and Mara shifted on her feet. Leia tore her stunned gaze away, suddenly finding her shoes interesting. Luke and Tendra literally had their mouths hanging open.

"Are you _sure_ you want to name the ship after your wife?" Han finally said, breaking the quiet as he stared up at the ship.

"Of course," Lando replied, feeling irritated as the response. He'd expected applause and congratulations, at the very least. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because, it's, um," Mara tried to say, then turned her face away, desperately trying not to burst into laughter.

"It's... what?" Lando demanded, annoyed.

"Sort of masculine, dear," Tendra explained gently, moving forward and patting his arm.

"Sorta overcompensation, I'd say," Han added with a snort.

"What are you talking about?" Lando snapped, turning around to look up at his beautiful ship. The long, horizontal silver cylinder was the main body, with the cockpit sitting at the very front. The back of the ship bulged out on either side of the cylinder and held two powerful engines. Lando was positive his ship could easily out fly and outmaneuver the _Falcon_. "You're just jealous of my new ship, that's all."

Leia put her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter. "If you say so," the Princess gasped. Still, tears of mirth trickled out of her eyes.

"I've spent over two hundred thousand credits on this ship," Lando continued, trying to ignore both Leia and Mara, who were now bending over and holding their sides. "I don't know what everyone finds so funny about it."

Tendra looked up at the ship, her husband's pride and joy. Then she leaned over and whispered in his ear. At first, Lando looked confused. Then, as he stared at his ship, comprehension dawned in his eyes. "It... it looks like a giant WHAT?"

"Overcompensation," Han repeated, taking another big gulp of wine. "Some of us got it, Lando, and some of can only dream. I'd say you're in the dreamer category."

"I... I can't fly around in a ship that looks like... " Lando trailed off, his face gray with horror. "People will talk!"

"I can imagine what they'll be saying, too," Mara said in agreement. "Here comes Calrissian and his big - "

"SHUT UP!" Lando roared. "Why didn't someone tell me? I had engineers checking out my specs!"

Han couldn't help himself. "Lando, you just _think_ those are your specs."

When Lando took a threatening step toward Han, Luke quickly stepped between the men. "Come on. Maybe no one will notice," Luke said, trying to keep the peace. "I'm sure it's a very nice ship. Inside, anyway."

"That's right, dear," Tendra said soothingly. "Maybe we're the only ones that see..._ that_."

It was at that moment that Threepio and Artoo came inside the hanger, and the protocol droid was busy arguing with his counterpart. "I told you we would be late if you insisted on recharging first," Threepio said, then stopped in his tracks. "Dear me. Is that Baron Calrissian's new ship? It appears to be a giant - "

"NOOO!" Lando screamed, throwing the bottle of expensive wine on the ground, not caring that it shattered into a million pieces. Then he ran out of the hanger without looking back.

"Or maybe not," Tendra said with a sad sigh.

**THE END**


	28. Pining Away

**Pining Away**

_Shortly before ESB_...

As she walked down the cold corridor Leia almost walked past the trash recycler, but stopped and frowned down at the flimsy-plast wadded up on the floor. "Are they blind? Why can't they see they missed the recycler?" Leia complained under her breath. "No... they let someone else pick up after them. Do I look like their mother?" She bent over and snatched the offending flimsy up, her hand moving toward the container... when she noticed scrawled writing. Curious, she smoothed out the flimsy, and feeling a bit guilty for being so nosy, she read the hastily written words.

_Your skin is like a satin sheet,_

_Your Worshipfulness_

_Rosy lips tempt me with promises so sweet,_

_Your Holiness_

_Your pretty nose curves up and crinkles funny,_

_Your Bossiness_

_The sound of your laughter is as sweet as honey,_

_Your Crabbiness_

_Though I object to hauling you across the galaxy,_

_Your Iciness_

_I think you must know it's only a fallacy,_

_Your Royalness_

_Because I would face a thousand Imps, you see,_

_Your Shortness_

_If only would you be_

_My Princess..._

Leia read the words three times before she could grasp what she was actually reading. "How dare he?" she muttered. Furious, she headed off to confront the author.

"What's the meaning of this?" the Princess demanded, thrusting the flimsy under Han's nose as he sat at the holo-chess on the Falcon, table sipping caffe.

"Nice to see you, too, Sweetheart," the Corellian drawled out. "Crawled outta your ice-cube on the wrong side this morning?"

"You left this on the floor on purpose, didn't you?" she continued to rant. "Just to embarrass me."

"What's gotten you all hot and bothered?" Han asked, leaning back, putting his hands behind his head and lacing his fingers together while giving the worked-up Princess his best leer. "Of course, you getting hot and bothered might be a good thing, since it'll help keep down the heating costs, and that's a benefit for the Rebellion. You know I'm always available to help you with that, Princess, so don't say I've never volunteered for something unless it involves making me money."

"Read this!" She threw the crinkled flimsy down on the table. "If you think this is somehow funny..."

Sighing, the smuggler dropped his arms, and picked up the flimsy, then read the words. "Who wrote this?" he asked after he was finished. "They write really krethin' bad poetry."

"Are you telling me you didn't write that?"

Han laughed. "Come on, Princess. Give me a little bit of credit. What makes you think_ I'm _the one that wrote that garbage?"

"No one else calls me those stupid nicknames but you."

"But everyone on base knows I call you those names. I think you must have some fantasy that I spend hours pining over you, and write sappy poetry hoping you'll pay attention to me when you find it."

"I don't fantasize about you, Captain," the Princess said, her voice frosty. "If you didn't write this, then who did?"

"It was obviously a joke. Someone meant for you to find it and think that I wrote it. Probably Wes, if I had to guess."

"Well..." Leia suddenly felt stupid, and she hated when that happened. "Don't you dare tell Wes Janson I fell for his prank... or... or..."

"Or, what? Maybe I'll keep your secret, and maybe I won't," Han taunted. "It depends."

"Depends? Depends on what?"

"I'll keep your secret if you kiss me." Han leaned forward, puckering his lips and making kissy noises.

Leia's eyes grew wide and she backed away. "How dare you! I wouldn't kiss you if you were the last man in the galaxy!"

"You'll never know what you're missing, Your Holiness."

"Errggg... ack!" Unable to come up a better response, Leia turned and flounced away, blushing a bright shade of pink.

Han sat quietly for a few seconds, then looked down at the flimsy she'd left behind. "Next time I throw away something as incriminating as this, I think I'll burn it first," he said softly.

**THE END**


	29. SOLD!

**SOLD!**

"We've been sold out!" The wily gambler shook his head sadly. "Our Illustrious All-Knowing Overlord, the Prince of Plaid, The Big Brother of Beards, the Father of the Force, has sold us out, just like a herd of rancors. We should never have believed a word that man said, especially after hearing that idiotic line about sand being coarse. Of course sand is coarse… otherwise it wouldn't be sand, would it?"

"Rancors don't gather up in herds," one of the gambler's drinking companions muttered into his ale.

"Good for them, then. No one can treat them like sarlacc fodder," Lando decreed, holding up his own half empty container as he yelled loudly in the general direction of the bar. "I need a refill!"

"Haven't you had enough?" the youngest male in the group asked his tipsy friend.

"Nope. Can't say that I have," Lando replied, licking the edge of the glass. He leaned forward toward the blond Jedi Knight. "Do you know what's the worst song ever written?"

"'The Macarena?'" Luke replied, slumping down in his seat. "Or 'My Heart Will Go On?'"

"'Who Let the Dogs Out?'" Han asked earnestly. "And I always hated 'Red Rubber Ball,' too."

"No, no, no. Those are all bad, but the worst one is 'It's A Small World.' It burrows into your brain like a sand roach, and goes around and around and as hard as you try, you just can't make it go away." Lando threw his head back and started singing at the top of his lungs, "It's a World of Hope and a World of Fear, it's a World of …"

"SHUT UP!" Han yelled loudly, causing all the other patrons to stop talking and turn to look at the morose group. "Now I'm gonna have that dang song stuck in my head the rest of the day."

"See?" Lando said smugly. "The song's plain evil."

"I'm not too fond of the 'Yo-Ho' song, myself," Han grumbled.

"What about the 'Tiki Room' song?" Luke put in. "How many times can you listen to birds singing those same words about the flowers crooning before you go insane? Now _that's_ evil."

"Let's just agree that they're all evil and meant to drive the average person crazy. It's a plot that only someone as wicked as Palpatine could have conceived. Or evil Uncle Wally."

"Uncle Willy," Luke corrected.

"What's evil?" a female voice spoke from behind Lando's back.

"That 'Small World' song," Han replied as he patted the seat, indicating that Princess Leia should sit. "Have you heard any more rumors?"

"There are all sorts of rumors flying around," the Princess responded, as she took her place next to Han. "The latest one has me killing Han and having an affair Lando. And the holo-shrills claim that I'm the one that started it!"

Han's face grew flushed, and he glared across the table at Lando. "Now where do you suppose _that_ rumor came from?"

"Not me!" Lando protested, holding his hand to his chest in a gesture of innocence. "Honest!"

Luke took a big gulp of his drink. "Killing off husbands and having affairs doesn't sound very friendly. I'm not sure Uncle Willy would approve."

"Uncle Willy's been dead for a million years," Han groused. "The gang that took over his Kingdom never much cared about being too friendly."

"And now we've fallen into their unfriendly clutches, thanks to the old Master of Modesto," Luke concurred, giving a sad sniff. "I suppose my sweet Mara won't even exist in their twisted version of reality."

"'Sweet' and 'Mara' would be the ultimate definition of an oxymoron," Lando said.

"It's a good thing Mara never heard you calling her a moron," Han said.

"No, that's not…" Lando started out, and then he shrugged. "Whatever."

"On the bright side, maybe I'll be a Jedi this time around, instead of Mothma's lackey," Leia said hopefully.

"If they turn you into a Jedi, we might not get married," Han protested. "Which means our children will never be born, either."

"Is that a bad thing, considering how they turned out?"

Han sighed. "Maybe not. Maybe not."

"And you might actually have a real job in Uncle Willy's Wonderful World, instead of just pretending that you have one," Lando pointed out.

"Oh, yeah?!" Han shouted, standing up and almost toppling the table over. "What, exactly, have you been doing that's so much more important than being married to Princess Leia, who is sometimes an important politician and sometimes almost a Jedi?"

"Hey!" Leia yelled, frowning at Han. "I resent that. Maybe I _will_ do you in with my lightsaber while you're sleeping."

"Did you hear that, Luke? Did you?" Han gasped. "Your sister is getting darthy. Tell her to stop turning into a Sith, or I won't go to Willy's Wonderful World with her, at all."

"Leia, you really shouldn't - " Luke started out.

"You can tell Han to grow up, while you're at it," Leia snapped, interrupting her brother. "He's been asking to croak off for years and years, and now that he finally has his chance, he's changed his mind."

"See?" Luke said with a sad nod. "This is what the Unfriendly Beings that are in control of us now want to have happen. They want to tear us apart, just so they can stick us back together in whatever image they desire."

"So they can make ship-loads of money," Lando stated. "Money is evil."

"The 'Macarena' is evil," Luke said firmly. "And that's no joke."

"You should know about jokes," Han grumbled.

"What's THAT supposed to mean!?" Luke screamed at his friend, reaching for his lightsaber and causing his drink to spill on the table.

Han jumped backwards, and pulled out his blaster. "Watch it, Luke! I shoot first and ask questions later. At least I think I do….it sorta depends on the Plaid One's whim."

"Not anymore," Lando said. "Now it will be on the whim of Old Dead Wally's Minions."

"Willy," Luke corrected.

"Stop arguing, everyone. We can all agree that having Willy World in control is a bad thing," Leia stated firmly. "We're going to be part of it whether we want to, or not."

"That's why we have to get drunk today. I've heard that they don't have any alcohol in Willy's Kingdom," Lando said, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Hell, they don't even allow _chewing gum_," Han said, sitting back down next to Leia.

"I don't care if I do sound like Threepio, I'm going to say it anyway. We're all doomed," Luke stated in despair.

**THE END**


	30. Ignorance of the Law is No Excuse

**Ignorance of the Law is No Excuse - pre-ESB**

Han Solo couldn't believe it had been only two days since he'd been arrested, tried, convicted and sentenced to die by drowning. What kind of people tied you buck naked to a durasteel post and watched as the tide came in, anyway? All because he'd asked some girl for a kiss! Sure, he'd only just met her a few seconds before, but he was joking, for kreth's sake! And he certainly didn't know the girl was the Potentate's daughter. Okay...so he _did_ know that part, but it was the Potentate's fault he'd been drinking too much. These people were in dire need of a sense of humor.

The Corellian's thoughts drifted back to two days ago... a lifetime it seemed...

* * *

"Grand Potentate Tallis is a very strict man, Solo. You have to be very careful what you say to him." Leia Organa handed her pilot and guardian a long, handwritten list. "These are all the rules you have to follow. You need to memorize them, like I have. The Selear people are very rigid, and easily offended."

Solo took the carefully prepared list and crumpled it into a wad.

Glaring, Leia snapped out, "What's the matter? Can't you read?"

"I'll just follow your lead, your Worshipfulness. 'Sides, I'm much better at feeling my way around," he replied, leering meaningfully at her.

"That's just what I'm talking about," Leia said, exasperated. "You can't say things like that. We're trying to enlist this system's support, not push them into the lap of the Empire."

"Ah, don't get yourself so worked up. I'll tell them your lap is so much nicer than Palpatine's."

Giving a frustrated snort Leia stormed away, leaving the Corellian chuckling at her overwrought emotions. Leave it to Her Highnessness to exaggerate this planet's beliefs.

A few seconds later, Leia returned, shoving a box at him. "These are the clothes we're expected to wear. And blasters aren't allowed."

"I ain't going anywhere without - "

"Yes, you are," Leia interrupted. "They have laws. No weapons allowed, and we are not going to break their rules."

Han opened the box, pulling out a long, black robe with a solid white stripe running down the front from under the chin to the floor, a pair of white gloves, and black hood with the eye slits lined in white. "What the...?"

"People don't show each other what they look like, Solo. They don't even see the faces of the people they marry until their wedding night."

"You're kidding me."

The Princess let out a frustrated hiss. Solo could be incredibly annoying at times. "No. I'm not."

"How do they decide who they want to marry, if they can't see what the other looks like?"

"Parents arrange their children's marriages when they're a year old. It doesn't matter what they look like," Leia patiently explained. "This information was all on the flimsy you so nicely threw away."

Solo shook his head in dismay as he put on the robe, then pulled the hood over his face. With his voice slightly muffled, he informed the Princess, "I'll bet there are a lot of surprised Selears on their wedding night."

Quickly, Leia pulled her own hood over her head so the Corellian smuggler couldn't see her smile. "I know if it was me, and my parents had arranged for me to marry you, I'd die of fright on my wedding night."

"Nah... you'd be so overwhelmed by my stunning handsomeness, not to mention my manly attributes, you'd swoon in my arms and beg me to take your innocence."

"You are such an egomaniac, Solo." Leia turned and stalked away, glad Solo couldn't see her blush.

Fully covered from head to toe in heavy, loose black and white clothing, Han and Leia exited the _Falcon_, leaving behind an amused Wookiee, then made their way to the designated meeting place. Every single person they passed was dressed exactly in the same type of black and white robe and white gloves. It was impossible to tell the men from the women, unless you stared at the chest area and waited to see if movement showed any evidence of gender. Even then it was difficult.

The houses and businesses were morbid looking buildings, devoid of personality and character. The outer walls were checkered in black and white squares and none of the buildings had windows, only block numbers to let you know if you were at the right place.

Finally, they arrived at the somber looking, box-like palace. White metal walls, black and white tiled floor, white ceiling. No pictures, no sculptures, no plants. Nothing to break the monotony, other than the glaring, recessed lighting. It was as though the entire culture was allergic to color. If Leia was nervous or put-off by this planet, at least it was easy to hide beneath the cloaks. Han was getting jittery, wishing he had his blaster. This place was giving him the creeps.

The guards admitted them only after Leia gave them a detailed password, and the two Rebels were escorted to a long, narrow room. The only furniture was a black table, and matching white chairs. Only one person was currently sitting at the table, also dressed in black and white robes. The only difference with this person was a very ornate, bejeweled crown perched on top of his head. Han assumed this must be the Grand Potentate.

Princess Leia bowed deeply, then stuck her elbow sharply into Han's side. Reluctantly, the smuggler gave a half-hearted bow.

"You must be the esteemed Royal Princess Senator Leia Organa, the beautiful and graceful daughter of the late esteemed Royal Prince Bail Organa, and a very fine and handsome man he was," the Potentate boomed out loudly.

"Thank you, Grand Potentate of Selear. I appreciate your kind words," Leia said politely. She heard Solo give a muffled snort, and wished she could give him a swift kick in his ankle, but it would be too obvious.

"Have a seat, Royal Princess Senator Leia Organa," the Ruler ordered, sweeping his robed hand across the table. "And who is your escort, esteemed Royal Princess Senator Leia Organa?"

"This is Captain Han Solo, of Corellia," Leia said by way of introduction. Han gave a curt nod, refusing to bow a second time, but if Han had slighted the Potentate, it went unmentioned.

Both the Princess and Solo sat at the far end of the table, where the Selear escorts pulled out a chair for each of them. Han sat quietly, listening as Leia and the long-winded, and very loud, Potentate carried out detailed, and in the Corellian's mind, extremely boring, negotiations.

Five long hours later, Leia and the Potentate reached a tentative agreement on Selear supporting the Rebellion, in exchange for the promise of future trade favors once the Empire fell. It all sounded like a pile of giant bantha dung to Han.

The Grand Potentate stood up, indicating Leia and Han should do the same. "I would be honored if the esteemed Royal Princess Senator Leia Organa and her esteemed escort, Captain Han Solo of Corellia, would consent to join me, the Grand Potentate, for dinner."

"We would be honored to join you for dinner," Leia replied politely, bowing again. And again, Han refused to follow her lead.

As they walked a polite distance behind the Grand Ruler, Han leaned over and whispered to the Princess. "How the hell are we supposed to eat if we can't take off these hoods?"

"We'll just do whatever the Potentate does," she whispered back.

Dinner turned out to be one of the most bizarre meals of Han's life. The rules, as Leia whispered to him, turned out to be that the guests ate whatever the Potentate ate, in the exact order, and in the exact amount. If the Ruler ate three beans, the guests were then to eat three beans. If the Ruler took a mouthful of wine, then the guests took a mouthful of wine. And this was done by lifting your eating utensil, or glass, up under your head mask. And the Potentate liked his wine - a great deal.

By the end of the dinner, Han was feeling a bit tipsy, and judging by Leia's loud laughter at all of the Grand Ruler's lame jokes, the Corellian suspected the Princess was more than a bit tipsy.

Leaning over, Han decided it might be a good chance to flirt with the Princess. After all, how many times did he see her this loose? "Do ya think the Po'tater would mind if we dance?"

"Dance?" Leia giggled, then slapped Han's shoulder rather hard. "I don't hear any music... do you?"

"I'll sing."

That made the Princess give a very unladylike snort. "Sing? You? You probably sing like a drunken Gungan... with a head cold!"

The Potentate seemed to find this very amusing. Han did not. "I'll have you know I can sing. Sorta." Once the words left his mouth, he remembered that the only time he ever sang was when he was drunk. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't sing, did it? And he certainly wasn't drunk, just a bit lightheaded.

Leia's retort was cut short as another person entered the room. At first, Han assumed that it was just another waiter or waitress. Then the Potentate stood up, holding out his arms. "Bekki!" he cried happily. Han wondered how he knew one person from the other, unless Selearins had very keen senses of smell. The Ruler nodded toward his guests. "This is my beautiful daughter, Bekki. Bekki, this is the Royal Princess Senator Leia Organa and her escort, Captain Han Solo of Corellia. Say hello, Bekki."

"Hello," the girl/woman said obediently, and somewhat shyly.

Han stood up, bowing deeply to Bekki. "Would you like to dance with me, Bekki, daughter of the Grand Potentate of Selear?"

"Han..." Leia said, warningly.

Han ignored the Princess. If Leia wouldn't dance with him, he was prepared to dazzle this woman, just to show her Worshipfulness other females found him appealing. "If you don't wanna dance, how about a kiss?"

* * *

Sighing, Han sat down on his hard cot in the dark cell. That little sentence, spoken in jest, had caused all this turmoil and grief.

The Corellian wondered what time it was. According to his sentence, the tide came in shortly after dawn, so he was to be taken outside at first light, paraded through the public streets without clothes, and then chained to the post to await his watery fate. The Potentate had declared, rather pompously Han thought, that there was no greater humiliation than being naked in public.

Of course, the uproar had also caused the Grand Idiot Ruler to inform the Princess that the contract with the Rebellion was called off. Han didn't think that was any big deal. These people were all weird beyond words, anyway. The Rebellion was better off without them.

He just wished Leia felt that way, too. Thinking back to the trial, Han wondered if Leia was actually rooting for the Potentate to find him guilty...

* * *

Dragged before the Grand Potentate in heavy chains, but still in his robes, Han was pushed to his knees in front of the throne. A dozen spectators lined each side of the wall leading up to the throne, and Han assumed Leia must be one of those in attendance.

Clearing his throat loudly, the Grand Potentate yelled out across the room. "The charge is LEWD and LASCIVIOUS behavior toward the opposite sex. How do you plead, Captain Han Solo of Corellia?"

"Not guilty?"

"OVERRULED!" the Ruler ruled. "Would you like to try again?"

Han was confused. "Try again?"

Then Leia's voice spoke up from along the wall. "He pleads Ignorance, your Grand Potentate."

"Are you representing this scalawag?" the Ruler asked, sounding miffed.

"Yes," Leia replied, stepping forward. "Captain Han Solo would like to apologize, and make any and all amends to your High Graciousness that you see fit. He was ignorant to your customs."

"Who says?" Han remarked to Leia.

"I say," she hissed under her breath.

"Whose trial is this, anyway?" Han argued back.

"DO YOU PLEAD IGNORANCE?" the Ruler shouted.

"NO!" Han yelled back, as Leia yelled, "YES!"

"I FIND YOU GUILTY OF ALL CHARGES!" the Grand Ruler continued on, in the same loud voice.

"Charges? I thought I was just charged with one count?"

"I, the Grand Potentate of Selear, find Captain Han Solo, GUILTY OF LEWD AND LASCIVIOUS BEHAVIOR toward MY daughter! And I find you guilty of IGNORANCE, of which there can be NO EXCUSE!"

"Thanks a lot," Han groused at the Princess.

"I was trying to help," she protested. "Honestly!"

* * *

Maybe the Grand Moron Potentate had a point. It turned out that being dragged through the streets of Selear wearing only heavy chains, while the local residents threw handfuls of mud at you, screaming the word 'IGNORANT' at you,_ was_ rather humiliating.

What was even worse, Han could see no evidence that either Leia or Chewie was going to attempt to rescue him. It occurred to Han that perhaps Leia hadn't even told the Wookiee about the trial and sentencing. She probably was mad enough that she wanted him to drown.

At the edge of town, Han was dragged out into the local mudflats, until the pounding surf was close enough that he felt the cool mist. A heavy steel post was anchored firmly into the thick mud, and the guards roughly tied him to the pillar. Then they hurried away, and Han could see why they were in such a rush to leave. The water was already several feet closer than it had been moments before.

In minutes, the cold water was around in ankles. It rose to his knees as the local residents stood on the dry beach, yelling in unison, "IGNORANT! IGNORANT!"

Then the water was around his waist, and rising rapidly. Over the roar of the crowd, Han heard a different sound - he tried twisting around to see the source of the familiar noise. Over the horizon, coming in fast, was the _Falcon._ Han hoped it was fast enough, because now the water was over his shoulders.

The saucer-shaped freighter made a sweeping turn over the city, and the Corellian could see the landing ramp was lowering. It was the last thing he saw before the water rushed over his head.

* * *

The next thing Han became aware of was a certain Princess leaning over him, giving him mouth to mouth resuscitation. Rolling over on his side, Han gagged out disgusting sea water. "That wasn't what I had in mind for a romantic kiss, Sweetheart," he managed to gasp.

"It wasn't too thrilling for me either, flyboy," Leia commented dryly, wiping her lips. "But I thought I owed it to you."

Groaning, Han sat up. "Owed me? I'm the one that messed up your deal with the Potentate."

"True, but I'm the one that got_ you_ sentenced to death."

"How?"

Leia held up the wrinkled flimsy that she'd retrieved from the trash. "Apparently, the only crime on Selear that gets the Death Penalty is the crime of Ignorance."

"WHAT!"

Leia scrambled to her feet and backed away. "It was an accident, truly. I thought pleading Ignorance would get you a reprieve. I guess I didn't read their rules carefully enough."

Han stood up as well, suddenly realizing Leia had also thought to cover him with a blanket. So she made a mistake, Han decided. It wasn't like he was perfect - just _almost_ perfect. He was about to thank her for saving his life, when she smiled sweetly at him.

"Han?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you _sure _women are overwhelmed by your manly attributes?"

She laughed and hurried away toward the safety of the cockpit as Han protested behind her, "It's the cold water!"

**THE END **(the ending inspired by that episode of "Seinfeld")


	31. The Candied Fruit Cottage

Halloween Challenge story. The 'monster' I had to use was a Witch and I had to use the words - "yell - candied-fruit – seductive"

* * *

**The Candied-Fruit Cottage**

Endor, several hours into the Rebel Victory Party

Leia Organa pushed her way through the thick tangle of vines, turning back briefly to glare at her companion. The noise of the celebration had been long overruled by the noise of the various night insects, and the wind rustling through the overhead branches. A forest could be an amazingly noisy place, all things considered. "I don't know why I trusted you not to get us lost."

"We're not lost," Han Solo argued. "Corellians can't get lost. The party is back, uh, that way." He pointed to his left, then shifted his index finger and pointed over in the opposite direction.

"I know lost when I see it." Leia waved her hand, indicating the darken forest of Endor. "We should've stayed at the victory party."

"Maybe," Han conceded with a cocky grin. "But you just can't resist my seductive charms."

"Luke and Chewie will be getting worried," Leia pointed out. "If we both yell very loudly, they'll find us."

"Why do we want them to find us?" Han asked, irked. "Didn't we come out here for some romantic alone-time?"

"This a bit _too_ alone. We could get attacked by a dangerous animal."

"As dangerous as me?" Han asked, grinning as he leaned closer to the Princess. "Quit worrying so much. I've got a fully charged blaster, and a very good aim. I'll protect you with my life, sweetheart."

Leia smiled as she leaned her back against an enormous tree trunk, and tilted her face up, allowing Han lean closer, and kiss her…

"What do we have here?" a screeching voice cried out from the blackness. "After all this time, you've returned to the scene of the crime, haven't you?"

The Princess pulled back in surprise, and Han gave a disgusted grunt at the unexpected interruption. An old crone with scraggly gray hair, dressed entirely in a long, tattered black dress and leaning heavily on a cane, hobbled into their sight. "Who are you?" Leia asked.

"Pallapina," she spat out. "As if you don't remember."

"Why would we remember someone we've never met?" Han groused.

The old woman walked up to Han, and wagged her cane under his nose. "I recall you very well, Hansel. You might have grown up a bit, but you've still got that same smarty-aleck attitude."

"My name isn't -."

Pallapina spun around to face Leia. "And as for you, Gretel. Don't think for a moment you'll escape my wrath. You might have killed my poor sister, Furghie, but you won't have the same opportunity to push me into a fiery oven!"

Han rubbed his forehead, sensing a headache coming on. "Why is it that we can be the only living beings in a two thousand mile radius, and somehow, some _way_, the only lunatic on the entire system seems to find us?"

"Just lucky, I guess," Leia said dryly. She then address the old woman. "My name is Leia, not Gretel. And my friend's name is Han-"

"- sel!" Pallapina finished in triumph. "Hansel. Yes, I knew it."

"No… Han Solo."

"Whatever," Pallapina said dismissively. "I'm not interested in splitting hairs. Now, splitting hares might be jolly fun." She laughed hysterically at her own joke, snorting spittle past her broken teeth and thin lips while a confused Han and Leia backed away from the ancient hag. The woman stopped laughing abruptly. "Don't you dare try to escape. I am taking you back to the scene of your terrible crime, where you'll suffer the same fate as my poor sister."

"What if we refuse to go with you?" Han asked, resting his fingers on the handle of his blaster in an intimidating gesture.

"Then I will put a spell on you, Hansel," Pallapina warned. "I will conjure up a large tornado, and send you to spend eternity in a terrible place that is filled with has-been wizards and talking tin men."

"Kenobi and Threepio will _both_ be there?" Han asked worriedly. "Kriff. That _does_ sound bad."

"It doesn't sound any worse than getting shoved into a fiery oven," Leia pointed out to Han.

"Speak for yourself."

Pallapina wagged a crooked finger at the couple. "Come along. I have some baking that needs to be done this evening."

Han started to follow the old lady, when Leia grabbed his arm. "What are you doing?"

"She's just a harmless loon," Han informed the Princess. "And I'm sorta hunger. Maybe she's baking cookies."

"Cookies?" Leia repeated, eyes wide. "She wants to bake _us_, laserbrains! And doesn't she remind you of a female version of the Emperor? Even her name is eerily similar!"

"Oh, you worry too much," Han said dismissively, pulling Leia along as he followed Pallapina.

They soon approached a very small cottage sitting in a clearing. The tiny home twinkled invitingly in the bright moonlight. "Is this your home?" Leia asked.

"You know it belonged to my poor sister, Furghie," Pallapina snapped back. "Don't play dumb with me."

Han poked the brightly colored, spongy wall of the house. "What are these gluey bricks made from?"

"Candied-fruit bricks."

Han tasted his sticky finger. "Hmmm. Sweet."

"How could your sister have an oven inside a house made entirely from candied-fruit bricks?" Leia questioned the old witch dubiously. "Wouldn't the heat make it get all melted?"

"Candied fruit is quite indestructible. They put it inside holiday fruit cakes, and those last forever."

"She's got a point," Han agreed.

"You mentioned you wanted cookies?" Pallapina asked, tempting Han.

Han nodded eagerly. "Yes! Yummy cookies!"

"Well, come along and help me put them into the oven."

"Alright," Han said, and headed into the strange home.

"Han!" Leia hissed out, attempting to pull him back.

"What?"

"I think this is a trap."

Han gazed around at the home. "I don't see how. The house doesn't even have a door."

"Han, if you go in there, you're going in alone," Leia warned.

"Fine," Han said. "Stay outside. You're gonna be sorry after I've eaten all those warm cookies, fresh out of the oven."

Leia lingered outside the doorway, peering nervously inside the house as Pallapina requested that Han stick his head inside the oven, and check the temperature. If it wasn't hot enough, the cookies wouldn't bake properly, the witch claimed.

Han was about to comply when Leia hurried into the house. "Wait! Han can't check the temperature of the oven!"

"Why not?" Pallapina asked suspiciously.

"Yeah," Han added. "Why not?"

"Well…" Leia said, as she thought desperately. "He's too tall. That's it! By the time he leans over and checks, the oven will have cooled off because the door will have been left open too long."

Pallapina frowned, a bit flummoxed at this explanation. "Then you check, dearie."

"I can't, either."

"Why ever not?" the witch questioned, getting highly annoyed.

"Yeah, why not?" Han asked. "You're a lot shorter than me."

"Well… I'm a princess… see?"

"No, not really," the witch replied, rolling her yellowed eyes.

"A Princess's skin is too sensitive to properly check temperatures," Leia explained. "Just like we can't sleep on a pea."

"What's checking the temperature of an oven got to do with the fact you can't fall asleep before you pee?" Han questioned, totally confused.

"No! We – us princesses – can't sleep ON a pea!"

"Oh, I get it," Pallapina said, as comprehension finally dawned. "Fine. Then I'll check the oven myself."

She pulled the door open, leaning inside… when Leia raised her foot and planted her boot firmly in the witch's backside, sending her careening into the fiery oven, where she promptly melted into a lump of tarry goop.

"Kriff," Han said, peering into the oven. "I suppose I won't get those cookies after all."

"Han, forget about the cookies," Leia said sternly. "Let's try and find our way back to the party."

"I'll lead the way," Han informed the Princess. "Corellians can't get lost you know."

**THE END**


	32. Still Loving Jaina

This was my dare challenge...

_Kyp Durron, Jagged Fel and Zekk are having lunch at Dex's Diner. It is specifically mentioned that the NJO did not happen. All three are good friends and none of them are seeing Jaina._

_Three groups walk in. The first is Lusa, who reminds one of the men that their wife has a doctor's appointment that week. Wife is obviously not Jaina. Second to walk in is a NON-SITH Jacen Solo and his wife Tenel Ka, both happily married. They remind all three about their invites to Tenel Ka's and Jacen's 10-year wedding anniversary and one of the other guys-not the first-that they said they'd babysit their kids while off on their second honeymoon._

_Third one to walk in is Raynar, who informs the last one that his investment paid off and he now has the wealth to buy planets._

_The following lines must be used._

_"Jacen, a Sith Lord? Pull the other one!"_

_"I'm still trying to figure out why Tionne thought releasing a death-metal album was a good thing..."_

_"So, which planet do you wanna buy?"_

_There can be no shock ending, either. No reveal it was a dream/they're in hell or anything like that. Played straight, but with laughs._

I might have taken a few liberties, but I think I stuck fairly close to the requirements.

* * *

**Still Loving Jaina**

"I've loved her my whole entire life," Kyp Durron moaned unhappily as he sipped his ale. "It's not fair."

Thirty-year-old Zekk gave a snort, looking nervously around Dex's Diner. "You're not the only one that spent a lifetime loving Jaina, Durron. I can't remember a time I didn't love her."

Jagged Fel was listening to the two men, and finally spoke up, "She was my soul-mate. We were destined to be together for eternity. Talk about not fair."

"No one could have predicted this type of outcome," Kyp muttered. "Not even those of us with the Force."

"Is that an insult?" Jagged snapped out. "I'm tired of hearing about how superior you Force-sensitives are to us mere mortals, if you want to know."

"Nope," Zekk stated. "I don't want to know."

"Your wife might want to know about the fact you still carry a torch for the untouchable Jaina Solo," Jagged returned evenly.

"Shut up," Zekk whispered harshly, glancing back at the door. "Here she comes now."

Lusa loped gracefully into Dex's Diner, smiling broadly. "There you are, dear. Did you forget about our doctor appointment this morning? The office called to remind you."

"I don't want to go," Zekk grumbled, sinking down into the grungy booth.

Lusa expression became exasperated. "It's important! How are we supposed to have any children if we don't find out what the problem is?"

Zekk turned a deep red. "The problem is _obvious_. We're not the same species."

"Now, that might _not_ be the issue," Lusa chided. "The doctor mentioned you might need to wear special shorts to keep things cooler."

Jagged and Kyp burst into laughter, while Zekk groaned and buried his face in his hands. "My boys aren't too hot."

"You can say that again!" Jagged roared out, causing all the patrons to turn and stare at them.

Zekk was spared further embarrassment when Jacen Solo and his wife, Tenel Ka entered the diner. "Hey!" Jacen called over to the group. "It looks like old home week around here."

The couple headed over to the already crowded booth, and Tenel Ka addressed everyone, "Are you coming to our ten-year wedding anniversary?"

"Of course," Kyp replied. "Wouldn't miss it for the galaxy. In fact, Jagged here was just saying how much he'd like to baby-sit while you two go off on your second honeymoon." This comment earned Kyp a glare from Jagged, followed by a hard kick in his calf. "Ow."

Jacen shook his head, seeing Jagged's dismayed expression. "Not necessary. My mom and dad are looking forward to spending some alone time with their grandkids."

"Your kids are going to turn into whiskey drinking, swearing smugglers by the time you get back," Kyp warned the parents.

"They'd better not," Jacen replied. "I'll have to chop Dad up with my lightsaber if that happens."

"That would be Sithly behavior," Tenel Ka told her husband, wagging a finger in his face. "I won't put up with being married to a Sith Lord."

"Jacen, a Sith Lord?" Kyp laughed. "Pull the other one."

Jacen smiled. "What did we interrupt that was so funny?"

"Uh," Zekk said quickly. "We're still trying to figure out why Tionne thought releasing a death-metal album was a good thing..."

Tenel Ka shrugged. "I guess those folk albums of hers aren't selling too well."

"I suggested she try her hand at opera, but whoever listens to me?" Jagged complained. "Oh, look who's coming into the diner now! None other than Raynar Thul."

Jacen shuddered, and tugged on his wife's hand. "Well, it's been nice talking to you guys. We've got to go eat lunch."

"He's not the same bragging child he was twenty years ago, and that's a fact," Tenel Ka told Jacen.

The Alderaanian swaggered over to the growing group. "Hey, everyone! Guess what?"

"Don't know, don't care," Jacen muttered under his breath.

Raynar ignored his old rival. "You remember those stock tips Lando Calrissian offered to us? And none of you listened to his advice, did you?" He grinned, and continued without giving anyone a chance to respond. "Well, that advice was fantastic! So good, in fact, that I'm now rolling in credits, and I've even bought a few out-of-the way planets."

Jacen eyed his wife in disdain. "And you were saying…?"

Zekk stood up. "Come on, Lusa. I have a doctor's appointment. I don't want to be late." The two hurried away, leaving the rest staring at Raynar, and hoping he'd go away, too. There was no such luck.

"So, no congratulations?" Raynar prodded the remaining people.

"Congratulations," Jagged said dryly.

Whipping out some flimsies, Raynar held them up for inspection. "I was thinking about making an offer on Cloud City. What do you think?"

"That you have too much money and too few brains," Jacen said softly as Tenel Ka elbowed his ribs.

Raynar heard the snarky remark, and responded in kind, "Jealous, Solo? So which planet do you want to buy?"

"Mustafar," Jacen replied without missing a beat. "I've heard it's a great place for Jedi with big egos."

"Speaking of big egos, how's that sister of yours doing?" Raynar asked, watching for Jagged and Kyp's reaction.

"She's fine," Jacen said shortly.

"Being a queen must be hard work." Raynar grinned at Tenel Ka. "Just think, Jaina's not only your sister-in-law and step-mother," he gave a dramatic pause and looked back at Jacen, "your twin sister is also your step-mother-in-law. That must be weird."

"That's a fact," Tenel Ka said neutrally.

The Alderaanian continued on, just to annoy Jacen. "Your dad must've had a bantha when she married a guy nearly as old as he is, huh?"

"Listen," Jacen said hotly, "maybe my parents weren't too thrilled with Jaina's choice of husband, but she's a grown woman, and it was her decision. Prince Isolder was so upset when Queen Teneniel was killed in that speeder accident, that Tenel thought maybe he'd do himself in. So Jaina's decision might have even saved his life."

"How noble of her," Raynar said snidely. "Well, have a good day. I know I will." And with that, he left the diner.

"Yeah," Jacen said, frowning as he watched his nemesis leave. "We'd better go too."

Tenel Ka waved at Jagged and Kyp. "Have a nice lunch, you two."

"Sure," Jagged said. "Bye."

"What were we talking about before we were so rudely interrupted?" Kyp asked.

"The same thing we always talk about – Jaina."

"Oh, that's right." Kyp took a long swig of alcohol. "I loved her more than you did."

"No, I love her more."

Kyp waved at the server droid. "Bring us a few more ales. This is going to take a while."

**THE END**


	33. Mara Laura Jade Gets Her Man

**Mara Laura Jade Gets Her Man**

The beautiful, slinky, twenty-something woman with red-gold flowing locks made her way up the ramp of the_ Falcon_, and over to the cockpit, where she'd seen her prey from a distance. Moving quietly as a cat, in her body-hugging catsuit, she entered the small room and looked down at the object of her desire as he lay on his back with his head stuck under the control panel.

"Hello, Han," the beautiful woman purred.

"Mara? What are you doing here?" Han asked, an expression of surprise on his face, as he pushed himself into a seated position.

"I'm here for you, big boy," she said as she crouched down, revealing her ample cleavage.

"Me? Did Leia send you over for some reason?"

Mara Laura laughed, her voice sounding like delicate chimes. "Silly man! Of course not!" With that, she tackled Solo to the ground, kissing him passionately.

"But...but..." Han mumbled against her rose-red lips. "What about Talon Karrde? Or Lando? Or Luke?"

"There was nothing between me and Talon! Or Lando, either!" she protested.

"But what about that time Leia and I..."

"Oh _that_ little incident!" Again she gave her sultry, misty laugh. "**They **were just kidding! It was just a silly little misunderstanding! Didn't you know that?"

"**They**? Who are **They**"? Han asked, puzzled, but keeping his arms wrapped tightly around the gorgeous woman. Who couldn't love her? Everybody Loves Mara!

"The ProFic writers, silly!" Mara explained. "Now, let's go somewhere more comfortable, like your bunk."

"Uh... sure!" Han said agreeably, if somewhat confused. "But what about Leia?"

"Who?"

"My wife?"

"Oh. Well, you'll just have to divorce her and marry me, you handsome hunk of burning love," she giggled.

"But we have kids! Three of them, I think," Han said as he allowed Mara to lead him to his cabin.

"Do you ever _see_ these kids?" Mara asked, annoyed.

"No. Luke and Winter take care of them."

"Do you ever see Leia?"

"No. She's too busy running the galaxy."

"Then _what_ is the problem?" Mara snapped, wondering if she'd need to use the Force to get Han to cooperate. "I'm far more beautiful and Force-sensitive than she is! And I want kids! Lots of Force-strong little kids!" She stomped her little foot delicately. "If I wait for Skywalker to get around to it, I'll be almost fifty before I have my first one! Not that my age would matter, mind you! I'll ALWAYS look like I'm in my twenties! Don't you want a wife that will never, ever age?"

Han put his finger on his chin thoughtfully. A wife that never aged? Now that would be great! "No problem that I can see!" He told Mara happily.

Mara Laura pulled Han into his cabin and shut the door.

* * *

Six months later...

The grand wedding had thousands of guests. Luke sat in the front row, between Lando and Talon. "I can't believe I let her get away!" Luke wailed loudly as the stunning, pregnant bride with red-gold hair walked up the aisle. "She was MINE! Mine! Do you hear me?" Luke grabbed Lando by the front of his ruffled shirt, sobbing inconsolably.

"Hey, Luke, will you calm down?" Lando growled, prying the Jedi's fingers off his clothes. "Mara was _everybody's_! Don't you think I'm upset, too?"

Talon sighed. "Everybody Loves Mara! Now I've lost the best pilot in the galaxy to that stupid Corellian!"

Luke Skywalker ignored the two men and turned around to face Leia, who was sitting in the row behind him, talking on a comlink. "Leia? Why didn't you stop him? What was wrong with you? Now I've lost my soulmate! I can never be happy again, not that I was ever happy to begin with, but I digress. And this is all because you weren't woman enough to keep your man!"

Leia pulled the comlink away from her ear. "Luke, is this important? I'm in a high-level political meeting right now!"

"Your husband is marrying another woman! That's not important?" Luke yelled.

"Who?"

"Your HUSBAND! Han SOLO! Don't you remember him?"

"Um, no. Not really," Leia mused. "**They** don't seem to think it's important to keep us together too much, so I've kind of forgotten who my husband is."

"You had THREE KIDS with him, for Force-sakes! How could you FORGET him?" Luke screamed in frustration.

"Kids?" Leia asked, confused. "I have kids?"

Luke threw his hands up in the air. "I knew it was a mistake to let you pawn your brats off on me! Now Mara wants kids of her own, because she thinks YOURS are so wonderful!"

"Why didn't you just ask Mara to marry you a long time ago if you loved her so much?" Lando asked as he filed his fingernails.

"I have no idea..." Luke trailed off. "All these women kept throwing themselves at me, and I was so confused! But I never loved any of them! I only loved Mara!" Skywalker put his face into his hands and sobbed hysterically.

The rest of the audience, except for President Organa who was busy talking into her comlink, turned their attention to the Wedding Ceremony.

"Do you, Mara Laura Jade," the Priest yelled at the top of his lungs, in order to be heard over the wailing Skywalker, "Take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"Yes," the radiant red-gold haired bride replied.

"And do you, Han Solo, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Does anyone here object to this wedding? Speak now, or forever hold your peace."

"I OBJECT!" Luke shouted, as he jumped to his feet. "I OBJECT!"

Mara Laura whipped out her lightsaber. "Skywalker! Shut up!"

"Yes, my love," Luke mumbled and sat back down.

"This is highly unusual," the Priest grumbled.

Solo whipped out his blaster and pointed it at the Priest. "Just get on with it!"

"I now pronounce you Husband and Wife!" the Priest said hurriedly.

A loud thud sounded as Luke Skywalker passed out and fell off the bench.

* * *

Han and Mara Laura Jade-Solo lived happily ever after, until Han got old and Mara didn't. Then she left Han and found herself a twenty-something Jedi and got remarried.

**THE END**


	34. Wandering Among the Stars

Short viggie inspired by a Victorian Quote Challenge over at the TFN.

"_It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy;- it is disposition alone. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others."  
~ Jane Austen, "Sense and Sensibility"_

With great apologies to "Gone With The Wind", here is my take on SW meets The Deep South...

**Wandering Among The Stars**

It was a hot summer day, and Princess Leia Organa, dressed in a silky, light-weight green frock befitting her station, sat on the upper-most step leading up to the Aldra Royal Palace. It was a huge home, really more like a museum, but that didn't matter. She had grown up inside this estate and dearly loved every room, every piece of furniture and every painting hanging on its walls.

Gathered in a semi-circle around her, and grinning down were three of her long-time beaus, Tycho Celchu, Raal Panteer and his younger brother, Heeth. Each man tried to out-maneuver the other, trying to get closer to the Princess.

"It's so very warm outside today," Leia stated to no one in particular.

"Would you like a cool drink?" Raal offered to Leia. "I could go fetch you something."

"I'd rather have the Prince bring me something," Leia said, carefully watching for a reaction from the trio.

"The Prince of Naboo?" Tycho repeated, shaking his head. "He'll be too busy with that new lady friend of his… what's her name?"

"Mara Jade," Heeth supplied, grinning. "She's a looker, that's for sure."

"Ha!" Leia snapped, her brown eyes flashing in anger and jealousy. "Red hair is most unattractive on a woman. And besides, red hair fades out with age."

"Doesn't seem to matter to Prince Luke," Tycho argued. "He's been bitten hard by the love-ant."

"I've heard he's going to formally announce his engagement to Miss Mara tonight, before we head off to fight those nasty Imperials," Raal commented.

"NO!" Leia shouted, jumping up and clutching her chest dramatically. "He wouldn't _dare_!"

"That's what I've heard," Raal insisted. "Right after the Formal Ball."

"That's not going to happened," Leia declared. "Not if I have anything to say about it." With that, she trounced off, leaving the three flustered men behind in her wake.

* * *

Back in Leia's expansive bedroom, Winter helped tug a heavy, ornate gown over Leia's elaborately coifed hairstyle. Winter leaned forward, noticing Leia's watery eyes. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Leia replied, before bursting into tears.

Winter quickly gave her friend a handkerchief, before guiding her over to sit on the edge of the canopied bed. "You can tell me."

"I've heard a rumor… rumor…"

"Yes?"

"That Prince Luke is going to ask that shrew, Mara Jade, to marry him tonight!"

Winter nodded. "Oh. That."

"How can you be so cold?" Leia demanded. "I've loved Luke ever since I laid eyes on him."

"You say that about all the cute boys," Winter pointed out.

"You've only had eyes for Tycho," Leia said, her tone frosty. "Even though he always hangs around me, acting like a sappy puppy. He never even glances at you."

Winter turned away, flushing with embarrassment. "You don't have to be cruel. I've known Tycho my entire life. You've just met Prince Luke a month ago."

"It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy;- it is disposition alone. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others," Leia stated firmly. "Luke and I are soul-mates. We are destined to be together for all eternity."

"Seven _days_?" Winter questioned, her tone dubious.

"With Prince Luke, it was a mere seven hours and I knew."

"You might have a difficult time convincing him of that, considering his love for Miss Mara."

Leia flicked her hand dismissively. "She is but a stumbling block along the way to true love. Once Luke knows how I truly feel, she will fade from his mind like a mist that lifts in the face of the morning sun."

Winter wasn't too sure that the Princess spoke the truth, but she wisely held her tongue.

* * *

The Princess walked regally down the curved staircase, smiling as every single man standing below turned their gazes upward at the descending young woman. Leia's eyes scanned the crowd, desperately seeking to locate Prince Luke of Naboo, the next in line to the throne after his aunt and adoptive mother, Queen Sola Naberrie. Unfortunately, Luke was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Leia's eyes locked on a newcomer – a tall man leaning casually against the staircase, wearing black slacks and a black vest, with a gun rig tied to his leg. What was even worse than the ostentatious display of a blaster, as she got closer she realized he was leering at her with absolutely no respect displayed in his manner or expression.

Not willing to let him fluster her, Leia stopped a few steps from the bottom of the stairs, allowing her to tower over the insolent man. "Proper manners would have dictated you leave your weapon at home instead of bringing it to the Ball," Leia said disdainfully.

"I've never been one to let manners get in the way of desires," the man drawled back, completely unfazed at her reprimand.

"You speak as a man of ill repute," Leia returned, ignoring the fluttering of her traitorous heart. "From Coruscant, I presume?"

"Corellia."

"Even worse."

The man had the audacity to grin, and take a deep, mocking bow. "Captain Han Solo at your service, Miss..?"

"You may address me as Her Royal Highness, Princess Organa," Leia replied, descending the remaining steps and pushing past the handsome stranger. "If you dare address me at all."

"Of course, Your Mighty High Royalness," Solo said, mocking her title with impunity. "I'll be sure to watch my manners in the future." He held up his fingers, showing her they were crossed.

"I can't imagine you were invited to this party," Leia shot back hotly. "Perhaps I will summon the guards to escort you from the premises."

Solo shrugged. "Go ahead. I'm sure your father can always find another pilot willing to risk his neck to defy the Imperial blockade around Naboo, and bring that kid Prince to this fancy local shindig."

"Luke?" Leia questioned, suddenly very interested in what Solo had to say. "Did you bring Prince Luke to Alderaan?"

"Yup, that's his name."

"Where is he?"

Han scratched his chin. "Last I saw, he was in the garden, smooching with some cute red-head."

Furious at Solo for relaying this information, the Princess stalked off, intent on finding her true love.

* * *

Luke wasn't in the garden, despite what that cad Solo told Leia in the foyer. Unfortunately, the woman known as Miss Mara Jade was sitting in the gazebo, cooling herself with a silk embroidered fan and looking quite alluring in her low cut emerald green ball gown with a stunning diamond and emerald necklace and matching earrings. The jewels must have cost a fortune, and Leia suspected they were a gift from the handsome young Prince. Those jewels should have been hers, by all that was right and just.

Leia was about to turn and head back to the mansion when Mara had the nerve to actually call out to her, "Princess Leia?"

Slowly, deliberately, Leia turned back to face her foe. "Yes, I am. And I assume you are Miss Jade."

"Of course," Mara said, quickly rising to her feet and hurrying out of the gazebo to approach Leia. "It's so very nice to finally meet you. Prince Luke has had nothing but good things to say about you, and your family, as well. "

"That's nice." Leia glanced back toward the estate. "I do have something I need to ask Prince Luke. You wouldn't happen to know his whereabouts, do you?"

"He just went inside, to speak to my cousin, and told me to wait for him here," Mara replied. "Luke's been acting so mysteriously today."

Leia regarded Jade with curiosity. "Cousin?"

Mara smiled. "Yes. Tycho Celchu is my first cousin."

"I wasn't aware of that," Leia replied. "You're Alderaanian?"

"Oh, just on my mother's side. My father hails from Kuat."

"Too bad for your father," Leia said distractedly.

The red head laughed, thinking Leia was joking with her, although the Princess had been quite serious. "That's probably true to a certain extent."

Leia walked off without saying 'goodbye', leaving Mara standing alone and somewhat perplexed by Leia's strange behavior.

* * *

Finally, Leia's search was rewarded, and she located Prince Luke just as he was about to exit the mansion. "Luke! I've been searching for you for hours!" Leia cried, grabbing Luke's arm and pulling him close. "Have you been hiding from me?"

Luke smiled indulgently at the young Princess. Last month, he'd met her three aunts, Tia, Celly and Rouge, so he blamed most of Leia's self-centered behavior on those that raised her and influenced her life. "No, Leia, I haven't been hiding. I've been very busy since I've arrived on Alderaan, but it's certainly nice to see you again. You're looking very well."

Leia batted her eyes at the Prince. "Thank you, Luke." She glanced around, noticing the many guests that were leaning close to the pair, trying to eavesdrop. "Can we go somewhere private? The library, maybe? I have something important I need to tell you."

"Certainly," Luke agreed, allowing Leia to pull him into the huge library.

Leia was relieved to see it was empty, and quickly shut and locked the door. "Finally! Now we can talk."

"What do we need to talk about?"

"Us," Leia replied, frowning at the Prince. "You and me."

It was Luke's turn to frown. "What about… us?"

"Luke, surely you can't be thinking about asking Mara Jade to marry you!" Leia said, her voice rising in pitch. "Tell me that's just a nasty rumor, or the boys are teasing me mercilessly."

"It's not a rumor." The Prince smiled gently, taking Leia's hand. "Leia, my dear Leia. Why does this news upset you so?"

"I thought… I thought…" Leia gasped, jerking her hand back as if Luke's touch suddenly burned. "I thought you loved me."

"I _do_ love you," Luke replied. "When I met you, it was like discovering a sister I never knew -"

"NO!" Leia shouted, stepping back, her eyes wide. "I don't want to be like a _sister_! I love you, Luke. And the love I feel is not sisterly."

Luke seemed taken aback at this confession. "I wasn't aware…"

"You kissed me! Last month, after that dinner, you _kissed_ me!"

The Prince blinked in surprise. "It was a very chaste kiss, Leia. A mere peck on the lips. I'm sorry if you took the gesture for something more than it was intended."

"I'm better than Mara Jade," Leia argued, switching tactics. "She's not even royalty. I'll bet she's not even rich, and her speech sounds course, like a person that grew up in the lower levels of Coruscant."

"That's not very nice, Leia," Luke chastised. "Mara happens to be very refined. And I happen to love her very much. I am going to ask her to marry me, this very evening."

"You think she's pretty? Prettier than me?"

"No, that's not it," Luke responded.

"If you ask her to marry you, I'll die of a broken heart," Leia cried in despair. "I could never, ever be happy again."

"Don't be so melodramatic," Luke said, shaking his head and moving toward the doorway. "You have dozens of young men that are pursuing your hand. You'll survive this, Princess. Someday, when we're both older, we'll have a good laugh about this conversation." He unlocked the door, and turned one more time to face Leia. "Have a good time at the Ball tonight. Don't let this upset you and ruin the entire evening."

Then he left, and Leia was the one left standing alone in the large room. She stood completely still for long moments. Up until this point, she'd been _certain_ of her ability to convince Luke to leave Mara and fall into her arms. She wasn't prepared to be rejected. No one had ever rejected her before in her seventeen years. The shock faded, and rage boiled up, and over. Leia reached down, and picked up an expensive vase, one of Aunt Celly's favorites, but that didn't matter. She pulled back her arm and launched the vase with all her might across the room, sailing it over the long sofa that faced the fireplace, and smashed the innocent object against the painting above the fireplace's ledge. It crashed into thousands of shards with a satisfying amount of noise and destruction.

"HEY!" a deep voice objected from the sofa. "Watch where you throw things, Your Royal Holiness!"

Startled, Leia staggered a step backwards. "What? Who?"

The man sat up, brushing pieces of porcelain from his shoulders, and to Leia's horror, she immediately saw it was none other than Captain Solo. "What are YOU doing in here?"

"I was tryin' to get in a little nap, but between all your yellin' and throwin' things, it's pretty darn hard to do," Han muttered, rising off the sofa.

"You heard my private conversation with Prince Luke?"

"It was pretty hard not to," Han replied.

Leia could barely repress her indignation. "Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you let us know you were laying there?"

"It was sort of entertaining, first listening to you throw yourself at the poor, confused Prince, and then get rejected like a bad piece of fruit."

"What you did was… spying! It was _positively_ rude!"

"First I'm a man of ill repute with no manners, and now I'm rude," Han mused. "You do like to call me names, sweetheart."

"I'm not your sweetheart!" Leia spluttered out. "And I am certainly not a 'bad piece of fruit'!"

"I might be persuaded to change my mind about that," Han said, approaching the Princess. "Care to try?"

"Certainly," Leia said sweetly. "But you are so tall, so you'd better lean down."

Grinning, Han moved his face closer, and was rewarded with a very hard … slap. He put his hand to his stinging cheek. "What was that for?"

"For being… a rude, ill-mannered, scruffy-looking nerf-herder!" Leia snapped, then stomped out of the library.

Han watched her go, and gave a lopsided grin at the departing Princess. "You could use a good kiss, sweetheart," he said softly, amused. "And someday, I'll be the one to give it to you."

**THE END **


	35. SW Holiday Nightmare Before Festivus

**A Star Wars Holiday Nightmare Before Festivus**

Han Solo walked through the foggy streets, trying to figure out where he was. It was dark and difficult to see very far, and the wet snow was making his hair damp. After a few confused moments, he sighed in relief as he recognized a cantina's entryway. He knew he was on Tatooine. Pausing at the doorway, he wondered _why_ he was on Tatooine... and why was it snowing outside? Tatooine wasn't exactly known for having a winter season.

The Corellian shrugged, and then entered the door. He stopped quickly in surprise as he observed the locals - human and non-human - doing a congo line dance around the saloon, led by a robust woman Han had never before seen. Upon seeing him, the tall woman halted her dance partners, and gave a cheeky grin at Han. "Happy Festivus, stranger. Care to join us?" she asked in a deep voice.

"Who are you, and what's a Festivus?" Han asked.

"Ackmena's the name, serving drinks are my game," she replied. "You've never heard of Festivus? It's just the best holiday in the galaxy." She sized Han up carefully. "If you don't like dancing, I have a private room in the back for more personal exercise."

"Uh, no thanks," Han said, backing up. "Maybe I came into the wrong place."

"I doubt that," Ackmena said, winking. "Your Wookiee friend has been waiting for you." She pointed up to a brightly lit stage.

Han felt his jaw drop. Chewie, Malla, Ichy, and about a dozen other Wookiees all stood in a row, dressed in long, red robes. "Chewie? What are you doing up there?"

*I'm the lead singer in a Festivus Wookiee choir,* Chewie woofed back.

"Since when do Wookiees wear clothes?"

*It's Festivus,* Chewie responded, looking down at Han and shaking his head in disgust. And with that, all the Wookiees started howling and screeching, which caused all the patrons to groan and put their hands over their ears and various hearing appendages.

"Aren't they wonderful?" Ackmena yelled loudly at Han over the keening noise the Wookiees called singing.

"What did you say?" Han shouted back.

The Wookiees suddenly stopped 'singing' and all the patrons broke into applause. "Look," Ackmena cried in happiness. "We have a celebrity in our midst!"

"Oh, I wouldn't say I'm a celebrity," Han said modestly, trying to appear humble. "Most people just call me a hero..."

"Not you," Ackmena sniffed out, pointing over Han's shoulder. "Her."

Han turned around. On the stage was a very, very odd looking woman with hair that appeared to be plasteel. "Who's that?"

"That's Gormaanda," Ackmena told him, her face twitching in annoyance. "The galaxy famous chef."

"Now, listen up everyone," Gormaanda twittered. "With the holidays right around the corner, we all need to learn how to properly prepare roasted bantha rump." She picked up a very large carving knife, looking wildly around the room. "Has anyone seen a bantha around here? We can't make the roast without killing a few banthas."

"I think I saw one running down the street," a calm voice said from behind Han. "If you hurry, I think you can still catch it."

"Oh, goody," Gormaanda said gleefully as she hurried out the door, nearly pushing Han down in her haste to leave.

The Corellian thought he recognized the calm voice. "Luke!" Han spun around, then staggered backwards in shock. "Luke?"

"What's the matter?" Luke asked, smiling serenely as he twined his fingers together. "Haven't you ever seen a Jedi wearing _man_scara before?"

"Uh... I think you might have gone a bit heavy there, kid," Han said worriedly.

*Han?* Chewie woofed from next to his partner. *Have you seen Lumpy? I think he's gotten lost.*

"I saw Lumpy a few minutes ago," Luke told Chewie. "He was with Mermeia, so I wouldn't worry too much."

"Who's Mermeia?" Han asked, having never heard of this person.

*Oh, that's a holographic hybrid human water-creature that Lumpy created on his mind-evaporator. I think he's in love with her,* Chewie said sadly. *I should never have allowed him to get a mind-evaporator for Festivus. Teenage minds are too easily evaporated as it is, anyway.* Chewie wandered off, bellowing Lumpy's name every few seconds, which sounded remarkably like the 'singing' from a few moments earlier.

"Isn't Festivus the most wonderful time of the year?" Luke said with a happy sigh.

"I've never heard of it until now," Han responded to his friend, then frowned and leaned a bit closer to inspect Luke's face. "Are you crying?"

"No."

"But... I think your manliner is running."

"It's called manscara, not manliner," Luke said, getting irritated as he wiped the dark streaks off his cheeks. "I think there's too much smoke in this bar, and it's making my eyes get all watery."

"If you say so," Han said dubiously.

"Look," Luke said quickly, pointing to the stage. "Leia's about to sing!"

"Leia's here?" Han asked in surprise. But then, everything was a surprise on Festivus Day, apparently.

Standing in her regal white robes, Leia stood above the crowd. All the red-robed Wookiees took their places behind her, and she started to sing a slow, somewhat off-key ditty about snow and red-nosed banthas and someone named Nick as the Wookiees hummed along behind her, swaying back and forth like they'd had one too many shots of whiskey.

"Come on," Luke cajoled the Corellian. "Let's join them onstage!"

"I'd rather not," Han remarked. "It looks crowded up there, already."

Leia stopped singing, glaring down. "Han! Don't you make me come down there and get you."

Heart pounding, Han headed up the steps and onto the stage. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"What do you have a bad feeling about?"

Han sat up abruptly in the dark room. "Where am I?"

"Home, in bed," Leia mumbled from under the covers beside him. "Why are you awake?"

"I think I had too much rich food before bed, because I just had the strangest dream," Han muttered. "There was some holiday called Festivus, and Chewie was wearing clothes, and some crazy chef ran outside in the snow on Tatoonie with a knife to hunt down a bantha. That wasn't even the worst part... Luke was wearing manscara!"

Leia sat up. "Manscara?"

"Don't ask."

**THE END**


	36. Son of the Emperor

**Son of the Emperor**

I was sittin' on the edge of the access tube fixin' up the hyperdrive on the _Falcon_, just like usual, when she came onboard. Now, mind you, I don't care if my friends and family just come waltzing on without askin' - you know, Leia, Luke and _maybe _Lando, if I'm in a real good mood. But I'd never met this woman before. She had long, light gray hair that looked like it hadn't seen a comb in five or six years, and appeared to be around sixty years old or so, thin and tall, and wearing the strangest assortment of clothes I'd seen in quite a while. Loose fitting purple silk top and orange and black striped slacks, with a gold cape that hung all the way to the floor. And to top it all off, a big red hat that stuck up like a chimney, and it had tassels hangin' off the bottom edge. Looked like she stole it off a lamp. I'm gonna have to apologize to Calrissian next time I see him for all the times I insulted his taste in outfits. This lady put him to shame. Before I could even ask her who she was, and what the hell she was doin' on my ship, she starts tellin' me this really bizarre story. "Han Solo," she says in a real deep, man-like voice as she looked down at me. "You're my long-lost son."

I've been gettin' a lot of that lately. Try being married to a famous Princess-turned-Rebel Hero-turned-Chief-of-State. The loons just come crawling outta the ground like pinchbugs. Gotta tell ya, I don't like bugs too much. And I didn't like this woman, either. So I told her to get lost, cause she was buggin' me, but she only laughed. "You've been the lost-one, my son," she informed me, like it was _my_ fault, somehow. "I had to leave you, or he would have found you."

"He?" I asked, annoyed. She was very annoying, just so you completely understand this.

"My husband. Palpatine. He wasn't always evil, you know. Once he was a cute baby, and a handsome young man."

I rolled my eyes at this statement. "My wife's father is Darth Vader, and now you're tellin' me my daddy is the baddest Sith that ever lived?"

"Yes." The funny part is, she seemed to actually believe her own story.

Once again, I tell her to go find some other idiot to scam. I'm too busy to deal with crazy people.

"You have the Force, my son," she tells me, not budging. It looks like I'm gonna have to call Chewie over, and have him pick her up an' toss her out.

"The Force?" I questioned, tryin' not to laugh. "You mean, like Luke and my wife?"

"Stronger," she tells me. "Faster. Better."

For some reason, a guy runnin' slow-motion flashes through my brain, but I discount that quickly. "Sure, _mommy_ dearest."

"So you believe me?"

"Of course," I said, just to make her go away. "A good son always believes his mommy."

"I'm so glad to hear that," she says, as she pulls out some round, glowing red ball-like object. "Now I can finally restore your powers."

This gets my attention, and I stand up, backing away. Things that glow red have always been bad omens, in my humble opinion. For instance, evil lightsabers glow red, right? So I tell her to put the weapon down, and back out slowly, and I won't have to blast her.

"This apple contains your Force-powers, my son," the woman replies, ignoring my warning. "All you have to do is take one bite, and your Force-abilities will return. Faster. Stronger. Better."

"You already said that," I remind her, shaking my head to get that guy runnin' in slow-motion out of my brain. "I ain't eating that...apple. Besides, ain't red a Sith color, like Vader's lightsaber was?"

She seemed to think this was funny for some odd reason, and she laughed. And laughed. And kept laughing, like those crazy clown-heads you see in nightmarish amusement carnivals that scare the poo-doo outta little kids. Not that those laughing clown-heads ever scared me when I was a kid. They didn't... quit lookin' at me like that! Anyway, I told her to shut up, and then she started crying! Women! So, real nice like, I tried to get her to leave my ship, and that's when she shoved that damned apple in my mouth, and I took a big, juicy bite before I could stop myself.

Next thing I knew, I was flying backwards across the hold, and ended up sittin' on my butt, gasping for air. I don't know how long I sat there, drooling and staring off into nothingness, but when I looked up, Chewie was standing over me, askin' how come I was takin' a nap in the middle of the day. So I asked him where my mother went, since she didn't seem to be around anymore, and he started laughing at me, just like that crazy woman was laughing! Kinda made me mad, I gotta say. Before I knew what was happening, lightning bolts came flyin' outta my fingers, and threw poor Chewie clear through the wall of the ship. Just like that, my best friend was deader than a hydro-clamp, an' all because of a glowing red apple and the apparent fact that my daddy was the Evil Emperor. I would've felt bad, 'cept Chewie shouldn't have laughed at me like that.

My day went downhill after that.

You remember when Luke went all Dark Side, and my youngest son Anakin was born? And **I **seem to remember that _I _ended up killing the Emperor with my _blaster_, even though he was supposed to have died a long, long time ago when he fell down a reactor shaft right before the second Death Star blew up into a million bits. You wouldn't think they'd have put all those really important details in a_ comic_ book, would you? But I digress. What I'm tryin' to get at here is I KILLED MY OWN FATHER! Me, Han Solo, son of Palpatine, KILLED MY OWN FATHER! If that ain't enough to drive someone to the Dark Side, I don't know what is. And since my father was Han Palpatine (don't argue with me. If I had to name my youngest after my wife's Sithly father, my father's name COULD'VE been Han) I figured I was destined to be the new Ruler of the galaxy, whether the beings of the galaxy wanted me to Rule, or not.

So I decided to go home, and tell the little woman I was takin' over the galaxy. Can't say that went over too good, either.

"WHAT?" the little woman yelled at me.

"My daddy was Emperor Palpatine, and now that I have my Dark Side mojo back, I'm takin' over control of this here galaxy," I informed her. Firmly.

"You. Can't. Be. Serious," she says. Just like that, too, with big hesitations between all her words.

So I told her I was _completely _serious, and she'd have to get used to the idea. But I wanted to be a KING, instead of an Emperor. Seems like a promotion to me. This, however, only made my wife mad, and she called me a nerf-header again. That was ONE TIME TOO MANY! I picked her up, threw her across my shoulder, hauled her up to the highest tower on Coruscant, and using the Force, sealed her into the room. You should have heard her yellin' at me through that door. A Princess really shouldn't use that kind of language. The only way to get outta that room was through a little window, and I figured since she didn't have any rope, there was no way she was going anywhere.

My next plan was to find myself a nice throne and a crown. On a planet as big as Coruscant, you'd think you could find those two little things, but NOOO. Not _one _lousy furniture store carried thrones, and not _one _stupid jewelry store carried crowns! Tiaras, yes... crowns, no! How unfair and sexist is that, I ask you? Fortunately I remembered there was this fast-food place where, if you buy some of their cold, greasy food, they give you a gold crown made outta flimsy. I guess that'll have to do for the time being. And my old Lounge-Lizard recliner will have to make do for my throne. I just told Threepio he'd better decorate it up for me real nice-like. Do you know glitter doesn't stick to cloth real good? Well, let me be the first to tell you - it doesn't.

There I was... sitting on my throne, an' waving my wife's lightsaber around when my busy-body brother-in-law bursts in the room, demanding to know what happened to Leia. So I told him she was indisposed, which was the truth, from a certain point-of-view.

"Put the lightsaber down, Han," he says to me, tryin' to use that Force garbage on my mind.

Ha! Little does he know... I'm better, faster and STRONGER in the Force than any Skywalker ever was, or is. I tell him this, too.

"Han... this isn't your fault," Luke tells me, trying to trick me. "There was an accident while you were working on the hyperdrive. The explosion must have affected your memory."

I can see why my father wiped out the Jedi. They're irritating, know-it-all's. I jumped up, and attacked Luke with my lightsaber, slashing away. I gotta admit the kid's got some talent. He ignited his own lightsaber, and blocked my blows, and before I knew it, my lightsaber went flyin' off. Lucky break. "Now ya did it," I told him. "I'm gonna have to fry ya with Force-lightning, just like I did Chewie." Course, that was a mistake, but I'm not telling Luke that.

"Han, you can't shoot Force-lightning out of your fingers," Luke tries convincing me. "And Chewie was hit with the same electrical current as you were. He's in a bacta tank right now, and he'll be fine."

"LIAR!" I shouted. "I killed Chewie with the Force! After my mother gave me a magic apple to eat."

"What's an apple?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "But it was mighty juicy and sweet, and gave me lots of power."

"HAN SOLO!" It was the sweet sound of my little wife, yelling right behind me.

I swung around to face her, and asked, "How did you escape from your prison tower?"

"Prison tower?" she screeches. For such a little woman, she sure has a big voice. "It was the REFRESHER! You locked me in the REFRESHER!"

Before I could argue this detail, Luke jumps on me from behind, tackling me to the ground. At this point, it's apparent that the apple mojo has worn off, 'cuz I really lost that fight, big-time.

When I woke up, I was locked up in a small, padded room, and a weird doctor came in. He tried to tell me I wasn't Han Palpatine's son, and I didn't have the Force. After a long time, I finally agreed with him, just so he'd let me go free.

But I know the truth. I just need another bite of that apple.

**THE END**


	37. Sith Lords and Holoshows

Set after ROTJ. Han and Leia have been married for four years.

**Sith Lords and HoloShows**

President-elect Leia Organa Solo's day had been extremely busy, and this was the first chance she had to actually sit down. Her feet throbbed, so she slid her shoes off under her desk, shut her eyes and leaned back into the comfortable chair. Within the month, she would be taking over the Presidency from Mon Mothma, who had declined another term. With three year old twins and Anakin, still a baby at sixteen months, Leia had doubts about whether she should take on the enormous task of the Presidency.

Han, however, had been surprisingly supportive, even though he visibly cringed every time the holonews referred to him as the First Husband._"How many husbands do you plan on having after me?" he had jokingly asked his wife. "That depends on how suspicious people get between poisonings," Leia had replied, managing to keep her face serious._

The buzzer rang on her desk, and Leia reached over. "Yes?"

"Leia, it's me," Luke's voice came on the comm. "Can you turn on the holonet?" His voice sounded odd.

"Sure, what frequency?"

"Seventy-two."

Leia pressed the button, and coded seventy-two into the console. Immediately a holonet program that Leia had only seen one time shimmered into focus. It was a tabloid type show that featured obnoxious beings, usually screaming, swearing in dozens of languages, and throwing things at each other and the audience - _The Herild Starlite Show._ A hard looking, overweight woman with loud clothing sat next to the host. "Seventy-two?" Leia double checked with Luke. "Are you sure? This is nothing but a trashy talk show."

"Just listen, and call me back if you get a chance," Luke replied, his voice still sounding strange.

Leia sat back and listened. As the loud woman talked, Leia felt her body tense and her arms tingle.

_"So," the tall male host was saying, "you grew up with our new First Husband, Han Solo?"_

_"Yes, we were both orphans on a freighter called Trader's Luck," she replied._

_"Orphans? Who took care of you then?"_

_"The ship's Captain, a real Hutt's butt by the name of Shrike."_

The audience shrieked at the description. Leia leaned forward and felt her heart start beating faster. Han was an extremely private person, and he had never been able to talk about his childhood to her. To have his past aired for the entire galaxy to hear was simply going to tear him up. And Leia knew the only reason this woman was on this terrible show, telling everyone about Han Solo, was because he was married President Leia Organa Solo.

_"We were all forced to beg on the streets when we were little, to raise money for Garris Shrike," she went on. "And as soon as we got a little older, we were taught how to pickpocket tourists, and steal from merchants."_

_"That's interesting. We all knew Solo had a colorful past. I guess his life of crime started at an early age," the host intoned, trying to be somber although his face betrayed his glee at nabbing this interview. "How did this Shirke person end up with orphans, Madam Delcie?"_

_"He found us wandering on the streets," Delcie replied. "Most of us were starving when he stole us, so we thought things were going to get better with Shrike. Except it didn't"_

_"No?"_

_"Nah, that creep beat up on us orphans all the time, when we didn't make him enough credits during the day, or the ones that had the spunk to fight back. Believe me, Solo was always getting beat up for having a sassy mouth on him."_

Leia watched the rest of the holoshow, numb. She had always suspected her husband's childhood had been bad, but to find out he was continually abused, both physically and mentally, as a child shocked her. Watching the interview had made Leia realize why her husband had built so many walls around his heart, and why it had taken him so long to lower those barriers. The fact that he not only survived his childhood, but turned into a caring man with a sense of humor made the Princess proud. Leia knew it had taken a great deal of internal strength to be able to overcome that kind of beginning. It was only the loud buzzing of her comink that jolted her back to the present.

"President Organa Solo?" her secretary began. "The comlink lines are going crazy. Holo reporters are demanding to talk to you."

"Put them off, Kari," Leia asked quietly. "I'm taking the rest of the day off."

* * *

Leia was not surprised to find that Threepio and Chewie were tending the children when she arrived home. She could tell by Chewie's expression that he had heard about the holoshow.

"Where is he?" she asked without preamble.

"Wurrfuerk arrook," the Wookiee growled and waved his paw.

"He said that Captain Solo went to work on the _Falcon_," Threepio translated primly.

Leia sighed. She should have known that was where Han would retreat - to the familiarity and comfort of his ship. "Thanks, Chewie. Can you keep watching the children?"

Of course, Chewie agreed.

Leia headed for the private berth that held the old freighter.

* * *

"Han?" The lights inside the ship were off, but Leia knew her husband was here. She walked down the dim corridor to the ship's hold, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the darkness. When she entered the hold she hit the light switch, flooding the area with brightness. Solo grunted and put his hand over his eyes. He was sitting at the small table, a glass of whiskey in front of him. Leia noted with relief the bottle was mostly full, and she did not get the impression he was drunk. "Are you all right?"

"Couldn't be better," was his sarcastic response.

Leia slid into seat opposite Han and tried to think of something to say, some words that would lessen his pain. "I'm sorry," she finally said quietly.

"For what? You didn't do anything."

"I was elected President," she answered, looking at her husband's fingers as they played with the drinking glass. "This would never have happened if you weren't married to the new Chief of State."

"The whole krethin' galaxy knows now, Leia," he whispered, hanging his head.

"I wish you would have told me all those things yourself, Han. Hearing them on a trash holonet show..." she trailed off, realizing it sounded like she was blaming him. He didn't need that, on top of everything else. "Do you remember Delcie?" she asked, curious.

"I remember she was older than me," Han answered. "She hung out with some other girls, and they always tried to get the younger kids in trouble with Shrike. Some people don't change, and she sure didn't."

Leia smiled. "Apparently not," she commented dryly. "But if she was trying to get you in trouble with me, it didn't work."

"I ..I wanted to tell you about my childhood, but I was afraid," Han admitted, staring at the glass full of whiskey.

"Afraid?"

"That you would be sorry you married me, or that you would pity me," he answered. "Or both."

Leia scooted around the bench to sit next to Han, rather than across from him. "I have never, ever been sorry that I married you. I can't imagine my life without you." She wrapped her arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. "And why would I pity you?" She couldn't resist teasing him. "You're married to the Chief of State."

"The holo reporters are gonna have a field day with this, you know," Han said with a sigh.

Leia looked up at him. "Hey, we've faced two Death Stars, bounty hunters, Sith lords, and thousands of stormtroopers. What's a few reporters?"

Han gave a deep chuckle. "Are you serious?"

"You're right," she conceded. "The reporters are worse."

Han leaned over and kissed his Princess. "Do you want to another thing I'm more afraid of than bounty hunters and Sith lords?"

"What?"

"Wookiees that have spent too much time trying to take care of three little Force strong kids," he answered. "I think we should get back home, before Chewie comes looking for us."

"You're right!" Leia said in mock horror as she pushed Han off of the bench. "We need to hurry!"

The Corellian laughed as he stood up. "Thanks for reminding me, sweetheart."

"Reminding you of what?"

"Of everything I have in my life," he said, becoming serious again. "It kinda puts things like nosy talk show hosts in perspective."

Leia put her arm around her husband as they walked out of the hold. "You're welcome, nerfherder." _And thanks, Delcie, for reminding me of everything I have, too,_ the Chief of State thought with a smile.

**THE END**


	38. A Festival to Remember

**A Festival to Remember**

Corellia, years before ANH

The candle in the window could be seen in the distance, a beacon of warmth and welcome to the weary travelers. Trudging through the knee deep snow, the family made their way to grandmother's small but tidy home. The two children were excited and happy, eagerly tugging on their parent's gloved fingers. Soon, they would be ripping open all the gifts the adults had so carefully wrapped for the Corellian holiday formally known as the Festival of Independence. There was no hesitation when the children reached the front steps. Throwing open the door, they flung themselves into the grandmother's arms.

"Gramma!" the young girl yelled joyfully. "I could hardly wait for today to get here!"

The elderly lady laughed and hugged her youngest grandchild. "Glora, I swear child, you've grown an inch every time I see you."

"Look at all the presents we brought with us!" the older boy exclaimed as he pushed the large satchel of brightly wrapped gifts toward his grandmother. "Can we open them now?"

"I see." Grandmother nodded. "You'll have to ask your mom and dad."

"Roc," the boy's mother admonished gently. "Let's get settled down and eat some dinner first. The presents can wait for a little while."

The children erupted in a protest of groans. "Listen to your mother, and go get out of those wet boots," the children's father said as he laughed. He turned and embraced the tiny older woman. "Happy Festive Day, mom."

"And you, too, Dell." She turned to her daughter-in-law. "I'm so glad you could make it for the holiday, Tassy."

"We wouldn't miss coming here for anything, Mother Balesin. The kids look forward to this day for months."

When the children ran out of the bedroom, the family sat down at the old table which was set for a huge Corellian meal, with a wide variety of breads, sauces and heaping plates of spicy meats. Blue and white tapered candles, the colors of the Festival, decorated the center of the round table.

After the dinner, everyone felt as if their stomachs would burst open. "Now is it time for presents?" Roc prodded his sleepy parents.

"Don't you want to take a little nap first?" the father teased.

"No! Presents!" Glora protested her little eyes wide with indignation.

The three adults laughed. "All right," Tassy conceded with a wink. "It's time to open presents."

With a loud cheer, the two children ran to the center of the room and quickly tore into the sparkling presents.

The little boy watched from outside the window, shivering in his thin ragged coat and hanging back from the edge of the brightly lit window so he wouldn't be seen. He wasn't supposed to be here, watching this happy family. He knew he was breaking all sorts of rules, but he simply couldn't help himself. _I wish I could have a family, just like that one,_ he thought fiercely. _Someday, I will. Someday, I'm going to have a mom and a dad, and they'll love me, and they'll give me presents._

He watched the as two well dressed, happy children opened present after present. Toys and clothes and holovids piled up as Glora and Roc ripped off the bright wrapping and threw the ribbons and paper over their shoulders. He did not feel jealousy - only a deep yearning to belong. His stomach rumbled, and the child felt his mouth water as the lingering aroma of dinner filled the air. He hoped they would put the leftovers outside in the garbage - that way he could have some, too. The thin little boy was frequently denied meals as punishment, and the food he was given could never compete with the feast he had just witnessed.

It was way past time to head back to the ship. But since he was already in trouble, the boy figured it didn't matter anyway. After all, he had been beaten plenty of times in the past, so what did once more matter?

It only took the children a few minutes to open several dozen gifts and then sort them in order of importance, with the clothing being judged as having the least value. While the adults cleaned up the mess the kids left in their wake, the two siblings argued over the new toys. Finally, the mother could stand it no longer. "All right you two, get your snowsuits on. You're going outside and play in the snow."

"Aw, mom, do we have to?" Roc argued.

"Yes," the father said sternly. "You obviously have too much energy to just sit around in the house. Now go get dressed. I'll come with and we can go sledding."

The notion of sledding eliminated any further dissensions. The two children raced off to obey their father.

"Why don't you go with them, Tassy?" the grandmother suggested. "I can clean up the house."

Dell smiled at his wife. "The kids would like that."

It had been a while since all four had done something together outside. "All right. That sounds like fun. Let's get dressed, then," Tassy agreed easily.

A half hour later, the four bundled up sledders headed off into the freshly fallen snow. The group did not notice the small boy, hiding behind the snowcapped bushes next to the house.

After the family had left for the gentle slopes behind the house, the orphan boy went back to his spying. Now only the grandmother remained inside the warm home. He watched as she tidied up the room, and cleaned the kitchen area. The little boy was gravely disappointed when the garbage was not put outside the back door, like he had hoped.

The older lady was finally done with her chores. She yawned and checked her wristchrono. The family would be gone at least another hour, she decided. Now would be a good time to take a little nap. Grandmother Balesin headed for her bedroom.

The hungry, cold child huddled outside the dining room window as snowflakes drifted down softly. The hunger pains in his abdomen increased in intensity, and the warmth of the house beckoned him invitingly. No one was around, and there was so much food left over, who would miss just a little bit? The boy eased out of his hiding spot, went to the front door and carefully pulled the handle. The family had not bothered locking the entrance - it opened easily.

The heat was a relief to his chilled body as the youngster tiptoed into the warm house. His fingers and toes began tingling as the warm air took effect, returning feelings to his extremities. As sneaky as possible, he went into the kitchen and opened the cooler, then hesitated. Everything inside was packaged so neatly, the grandmother was certain to notice if he pulled open the lids. The boy shut the cooler and went to the pail under the sink. Inside were vast amounts of leftovers, simply thrown away in a jumble. Now, no one would notice if things were rearranged inside a garbage can. With dirty fingers, the child reached inside the pail and picked out some meat and bit off a small piece. He shut his eyes in happiness, not remembering when he had eaten something so wonderful tasting. Greedily, the boy started to shovel the messy food into mouth, ignoring the tiny pieces that fell on his torn clothes.

"You don't have to eat out of the garbage," a woman's voice said gently from behind him.

The boy spun around in panic, guilt plastered on his face. Without taking his eyes off the older lady, he carefully put the pail back under the sink. "Pease, ma'am, don't call the a'torrities," the child spoke with a slight lisp. "I haven't taken anythin'."

Mrs. Balesin felt her heart break. The child was obviously an orphan, and undoubtedly traveling with the space gypsies she had been hearing about on the holo-news. Calling the authorities would probably be the kindest thing she could possibly do - but the young boy's hazel eyes were pleading with her. "I won't call the authorities," she said quietly. "But I will warm you some real food, not the stuff in the garbage. Would you like that?"

"Yea, ma'am," the boy said with a tentative smile.

The lady returned his smile, and asked, "What's your name?"

"Tad," the boy replied, lying easily. He had meant to say Thad, the name of an older orphan boy he knew, but the "th" sound was hard to make.

"All right, Tad. Why don't you go wash your hands, and I'll get some food out? The refresher is through that door." She pointed across the room.

The boy quickly complied and when he returned, the woman had placed a heaping dish of warm food on the table. She smiled with compassion as the child wolfed down the meal, barely pausing to breathe. He was barely finished when a loud rap sounded on the door.

Mrs. Balesin got up, frowning. Who could that be on a holiday? She opened the door to a sharp faced, well dressed man with slick black hair. "Can I help you?" she asked politely.

"I believe so." He sneered, looking past her shoulder. "That's my son sitting at your table. He has a tendency to run away from home. I'm terribly sorry if he's been a bother."

"Your son?" The woman knew this man was lying, but she turned to the child. "Tad? Is this your father?"

The child paled and looked down at his empty plate. "Yea, ma'am," he whispered.

"Come along, _Tad_, " the man snapped. "You've had me worried out of my mind!"

The ragged child obeyed and quickly went to stand next to the arrogant man. "Apologize to the lady, _Tad_."

"That's not necessary."

"I'm sarry to have bother'd you, ma'am," the boy whispered a second before the man with the hard eyes grabbed his arm in a vise-like grip and pulled him away.

The grandmother watched as the child stumbled to keep up with the long strides of his "father". When they were out of sight, she shut the door. Mrs. Balesin turned to look at the stack of new clothes and toys left carelessly where they had been opened only an hour before, and her eyes filled with tears.

* * *

Coruscant, 40 years later. Early evening.

Although the Festival of Independence had started out as a Corellian holiday, since the fall of the Empire it had been adopted by many systems. Coruscant was one of those many systems that now celebrated the "Festive Day", and the streets were lined with shoppers, colorful lights and decorations.

It had been raining steady all day, and Han Solo was getting tired of standing in stores, holding packages while his wife shopped for the kids. He didn't understand why they needed so many new toys anyway - the children hardly ever played with the hundreds they already had. But Leia loved the holiday, so Han held his tongue. He didn't want to spoil it for her, and if he complained, it was likely she would punish him by making him attend a holiday opera for good measure.

Right now, Leia was inside a clothing store while Han had stayed outside, under a canopy. All those racks of clothes made Solo feel claustrophobic. The only clothes anyone needed were a few good shirts and a pair of pants with no holes in the seat. At least that was what Han always tried to point out to his wife. Unfortunately, she refused to see the truth of his statement. His side of the closet was stuffed with almost as many clothes as Leia's side. This major difference of opinion remained, however, since most of Han's clothes, purchased by Leia with good intentions, were seldom worn in deference to his usual white shirt, black slacks combination.

A movement in an alley across the walkway caught Han's eye. Shifting the many packages he was holding, Solo left the shelter of the canopy and went to investigate. At first, the Corellian could not make out what he was seeing in the dark alley, then his eyes adjusted to the darkness. A child was rummaging through a dumpster. Han felt his heart skip a beat as memories of his own terrible childhood suddenly flashed back. He didn't want to frighten the child, so he called out as gently as he could, "Son? Have you lost something?" Han hoped he guessed the child's gender correctly, but he figured he had a fifty-fifty chance.

The boy turned around, and stared belligerently at Solo. "I ain't lost nuthin'. Unless this here's yors trash, mind yer own business."

Han stared back at the defiant child. The boy was no older than seven - Jacen's age. "Are you hungry?" Han asked quietly. "I know I sure am. My wife has had me shopping all day, and I could use some food. There's a restaurant around the corner, if you want to join me."

"Why?" The child's eyes flashed suspicion, and Han could not blame him. Living on the streets was hard, and undoubtedly the boy had all type of humans and aliens make him various "offers".

"I could just use the company, you know," Han said casually, trying to put the child at ease. "Someone to talk to."

"Well..." the child trailed off, thinking. "You stay ahead a' me, and I ain't goin' nowhere's alone wit' ya."

Han nodded. "You can follow as far back as you want." He turned and headed for the restaurant, hoping the child was behind him. When he entered the diner he sat in the nearest booth and waited. After a few minutes, the boy peeked his head in the door and finally entered. He slid cautiously into the seat opposite Han.

Solo opened a menu and pretended to study the items. Instead, he studied the child. Dirty, skinny, clothes torn and far too small. The memories of that day so long ago, when a kindly woman offered him a meal, threatened to overwhelm him. "So, what's your name? Mine's Han."

"Zack."

"What would you like to eat, Zack?"

"I ain't got much credits," the boy mumbled, looking at his dirty nails.

"I'll pay. And no strings attached, okay? You can get whatever you want."

The boy looked up, astounded. "Anything? Anything at all?"

"As long as it's on the menu." Han smiled kindly at the boy.

"I can't read."

"Then I'll read it to you, okay?"

"Okay."

"There you are!" Leia exclaimed as she hustled into the restaurant, hauling even more packages. "Why didn't you..." She stopped as she noticed the ragged child sitting across from her husband. Empty plates lined the table, and the boy's mouth and face was covered with teeberry pie stains, as he awkwardly held a fork paused halfway to his lips.

"Zack, this is my wife, Leia," Han said with a grin. "And Leia, this is Zack, my new buddy. We were a little hungry, so I hope you don't mind if we came in here and had a little snack."

_A little snack?_ Leia thought bemusedly. "No, not at all."

The child shifted uncomfortably in his seat and suddenly put the fork down and stood up. "Thank you for the snack. I'd best get goin', okay?"

Han nodded. "You're welcome, Zack. How about we have dinner tomorrow?" he suggested carefully. Solo knew he would have to work hard to gain this child's trust if he wanted to help get him off the streets. Although there were literally thousands of orphans living on Coruscant, Han decided if he could help place Zack with a foster family, it would be one life saved. The boy would be able to have the family Solo always longed for as a child, and never had.

"Okay," the boy replied slowly, as if it were necessary to give a hot meal deep consideration. "But no strings!"

"No, no strings," Han agreed solemnly.

The child started to leave when Han called out, "Wait!" He got up and sorted through some of the boxes until he found what he was looking for - clothing for Jacen. Solo handed the package to the boy. "Happy Festive Day, Zack. You take care of yourself, and I'll see you tomorrow, all right?"

The child's eyes lit up as he took the warm, new clothes. "Thanks!" The boy turned and fled quickly out into the brightly lit night of Coruscant.

Leia looked at Han, her face unreadable. Solo shifted on his feet, stared at the floor for a second and cleared his throat. "I guess we'll have to do some more shopping for Jacen. Sorry."

Without warning, Leia dropped her packages and flung her arms tightly around Han. "That's okay," she sniffed, trying to keep from crying. She stepped back and looked up at an embarrassed Han Solo. "I knew there was a reason I married you."

Han bent down and gathered up all the bags and packages. "Yeah... I know. So someone can carry all this poodoo."

The Princess grinned and blinked back tears, knowing that Han was attempting to deflect any accusations that he was kindhearted. "Yes, flyboy, that's the reason I married you. And don't you forget it."

**THE END**


	39. Barhopping With the Emperor

**Barhopping with the Emperor**

The first strangled breath was painful, as if his lungs were still coated with permafrost and the warm, unfamiliar air brought forth a searing thaw. He wasn't sure which direction was up or down, and his stomach cramped, threatening to expel its contents. The medicinal odor in the room made him gag, and when he opened his eyes, he realized he couldn't see. Unsure if this were yet another 'dream', another nightmare of his horrible confinement in his living tomb, or if the room was pitch black, he reached up and out, touching a metal mask. His hand recoiled against the cold metal.

"Where am I?" he managed to chattered out through numb lips. "Who are you?"

"You are on Coruscant," a voice replied through a respirator.

"I... I recognize your voice..." Han stopped as he felt a hypo press against his neck and hiss.

"I would think so." The voice sounded wistful and sad, if that were possible.

"Vader," Han said flatly, trying to keep the fear and defeat out of his tone.

There was a long hesitation before the Dark Lord responded. "Much has happened since Bespin, Captain Solo. The galaxy has altered beyond what you would recognize."

"Well, since I can't see, that's probably not an exaggeration."

"Hibernation sickness. You've been given medication, and your eyesight will return in time."

Memories of Bespin, and the events that led up to the carbon chamber flooded back into Han's mind. "Why am I here? Where are Chewie and the Princess? What did you do to Luke? I thought you were giving me to Fett, so he could take me to Jabba."

"Everything has changed," the man repeated slowly, as if he were speaking to a small child. "Jabba is dead... Fett is dead."

Han tried struggling into a seated position, only to have a strong, gloved hand push him back down. "What about Luke and Leia? And Chewie?"

"The Rebellion is crushed. Destroyed. The majority that survived the Sullust Massacre were captured and executed. A few managed to escape, and are still running... even today. All these years later, they still run and hide. My... um, the Princess and your Wookiee are among those that escaped. I have searched for them, but they elude me."

"Y..years?" Han spluttered out, stunned. "How long have I been frozen?"

"Three years... maybe four. Time goes so quickly."

"_Four_?" The smuggler put his hand on his forehead, trying to fight off the nausea and terror.

"The first year you were in Jabba's palace, until I rescued you."

"Rescued?" Han asked bitterly. "Why in the nine hells would you care where I'm hanging as a decoration?"

"I did not want Jabba to decide to thaw you," he replied. "It was safer here... and I thought they would come to attempt a rescue."

"They?"

"My... I mean, the Princess and your Wookiee."

"I guess they ain't as stupid as you assumed," Han snapped out. "Marching into Jabba's would've been dangerous enough. Coming into Palpatine's lair would've been fatal."

"Palpatine is dead."

"Huh?"

"I killed him, right after the attack on Sullust."

Han was silent, trying to digest this news. "You killed the Emperor? So you could take his place?"

"Not at first." The man sighed... at least Han thought the long hiss was a sigh. "But after the Sullust Massacre, it became necessary. I wanted to prevent the Rebels from being killed - at least that's what I told myself. But he lied to me."

"Palpatine? Lie?" Han gave a snort. "What a surprise."

"No. Not Palpatine."

"Then who?"

Ignoring the question, the man asked instead, "Aren't you curious why I finally thawed you, Captain Solo?"

"I figure it's just so you can have some more fun torturing me."

"No, Han. I'm so lonely. Leia won't answer any of my attempts at communication. She doesn't trust me. I need someone I can talk to ... I need a friend."

"A _friend_?" Han asked, incredulously. "You want me to be your friend? After everything you did to me on Bespin?"

"I did nothing to you on Bespin."

"The scan grid? The freezing? Ya call that nothing?"

There was a long pause, and Han could hear the rustle of movement. "That was my father, not me," Luke's voice said clearly, no longer speaking through a respirator.

"Lu... Luke?"

"Yes, Han. I used to be Luke Skywalker, but now I am Emperor Skywalker, the man that killed both Darth Vader and Emperor Palpatine. But even an Emperor needs a friend, someone to talk to... someone to play sabacc with... on occasion. Maybe we can go to nightclubs and holo-premiers together and pick up pretty females. When Leia sees how much fun we're having, she'll finally believe me, and come live on Coruscant. And besides, if she loves you, she'll be jealous of all the pretty girls you'll be seen with. Then we can all be happy together, don't you think?" Luke asked, sounding strangely euphoric.

"You thawed me to have someone to talk to? Someone to hang around nightclubs with?"

"Yes."

"Am I going to have a choice in this?"

"Of course I'll give you a choice," the young Emperor said, sounding pleased. "You can always go back to being my wall decoration."

* * *

Later...

Han woke up with a splitting headache, and someone persistently shaking his shoulder. Finally he squinted up, and was startled to see Darth Vader standing over his bed, and nearly jumped out of his skin. Then he remembered Luke's earlier words - that Darth Vader was dead. "Luke?"

"Yes," the modulated voice hissed out. "But everyone thinks I'm Emperor Skywalker, the Sith formerly known as Darth Vader. Except for Leia, of course. She knows I'm not really Darth Vader. I just don't understand why she won't contact me. I've even said 'pretty please.'"

"I don't remember fallin' asleep," Han said, frowning in confusion. "But at least I can see again."

"Told you so," Luke crowed out. "Get up and we can play sabacc."

"Right now?"

"Sure... don't you want to be filled in with your missing years?" Luke tugged his arm, and Han staggered to his feet. "I've got tons of stuff to tell you."

"Err... okay. Can I use the refresher, first?"

"That'd be a good idea," Luke concurred. "You smell pretty ripe. Of course, that might be me. This helmet holds in lots of unpleasant odors."

"Why are you wearing it at all?"

Luke pushed the mask to one side, trying to peer out of the shaded 'eyes'. "If I took it off, everyone would see I'm too young to be Darth Vader. How could I use his bad reputation if they know I'm not him?"

Han nearly pointed out that he was way too short to actually be Darth Vader, but decided it wasn't worth the effort and headed into the refresher. Later, after many rounds of sabacc ( which Han had lost rather soundly. He suspected the Emperor of cheating, but decided to not press the issue for health reasons) the Corellian questioned his former friend. "So... how did Palpatine find out about Sullust?"

"I told him," Luke replied, tilting his head to one side as he studied the cards.

"What? Why?"

"Well... after the botched rescue at Bespin - oh, I'm sorry about that, by the way - I was really upset that Vader told me he was my dad. And he told me this_ after _he chopped my poor hand off. What kind of dad chops your hand off and then tells you he's your daddy? I think my family might be dysfunctional. So... I told Leia I needed to go back to Dagobah and ask Yoda about some missing facts."

"Who's Yoda?"

"A short green guy with big ears living in a tree stump in a smelly swamp. He was a Jedi Master." Luke tapped his gloved finger on his mouth piece thoughtfully. "When I went back, he told me it was true, and not only that... Leia was my sister!"

"WHAT?"

"Yeah... that was my reaction. I had the hotty-totties for my own twin sister. Do you remember when she gave me that juicy kiss back on Hoth?"

Han shuddered. "I remember."

"Disgusting, huh? After I heard that, I sort of flipped out, and even tried to disinfect my tongue using a swamp-snake, but the snake didn't appreciate it very much, and it bit me right on my upper lip. I hate stupid snakes. So I went back to the Rebel Base at Sullust and told Leia everything, but she didn't believe a word of it. Can you believe that? That's gratitude for you," Luke groused. "And stupid old Obi-Wan won't even back up my story."

"Obi-Wan? He's dead," Han pointed out carefully. One could never be too careful when talking to a psychopathic Sith.

"Only when he feels like it," Luke declared, showing another hand of pure sabacc, which made eight in a row. "That's what I meant when I said he lied to me. Dumb old hermit... tells me my father was killed by Darth Vader, then has the nerve to tell me it was 'the truth from a certain point of view.' It still frosts my wampa's butt just thinking about it."

Han hadn't known what to make of that remark, so he just downed another gizer and tried not to think about it. "Then what?"

"I decided to take my dad up on his offer and join him. He promised me we'd get rid of Palpatine, sort of like a tag-team thing."

"But how did the Rebels get wiped out on Sullust?" Han prodded.

Luke threw down the stack of cards, and they scattered across the table. "I'm getting to that part! Geez, you sure do like to hear yourself talk, don't you?" When Han stayed silent, Luke continued explaining as he gathered the cards back into a pile. "Dad told me we'd get the old dude to trust us if I revealed the Rebel Base, and then Palpatine would be real surprised when we turned on him. He promised me we'd give the Rebels time to evacuate before attacking, but it didn't quite work out like that. The Imperials showed up before I had a chance to warn the Rebels, and it was a total massacre. Fortunately, Leia and Chewie were already looking for a way to free you, so they weren't there. I was pretty darn upset about the whole thing. I guess after seeing how I'd been tricked, I just lost it. Killed Palpatine, and turned on my old man."

Han nodded.

"Pitten got your tongue?" Luke teased. "Anyway... I ordered troops to head to Tatooine and bring Leia and Chewie back to Coruscant, but they had disappeared. So I had Jabba's palace watched night and day, day and night... night and day... you get the idea...waiting for them to come back. I even had your buddy, Lando, arrested and hauled - "

"Lando?" Han interrupted, unable to stop himself. "What was _he_ doing there?"

"He was in disguise as a palace guard, waiting for Leia and Chewie to show up. I guess they had some idiot plan to spring you. It would never have worked without me there," Luke bragged.

"Where is he now?"

Luke shrugged, which caused the huge shoulder-pads to shift off-balance and he nearly fell off his chair. "In prison. I don't like Lando too much, do you? He dresses funny."

Han eyed Luke's get-up. "Yeah, Lando dresses funny."

"A year after Bespin, I finally decided to kill Jabba and bring you back to Coruscant. Fett tried to stop me, and he lost his head in the attempt. I would have unfrozen you earlier, but I thought you might be ticked at me for messing up the Rebellion. So that's about the entire story of how you ended up on my wall instead of Jabba's, and how the Rebels lost the war. I really didn't mean for any of it to happen that way, but life can be weird sometimes."

"Yeah. Life's weird," Han agreed with a sigh.

* * *

Two months later...

Han took a big swig of his gizer, wiping the foam with the back of his hand and contemplating his bizarre situation. The platinum blonde in his lap wiggled, and snuggled against his chest. "Do you have to sit here?" Han complained. "I see plenty of empty seats." Actually, that wasn't quite true, since the smoky bar was rather crowded with both patrons and dozens of the Emperor's bodyguards.

"I like it here," she said, giggling.

Sighing, Han looked toward the counter where Emperor Skywalker - fully clad in black armor as his father before him - stood with one arm around a Twi'lek female, and his other arm draped around a red-headed human girl. No matter what, Luke made certain he had the prettiest females available, and Han was allowed the 'rejects.' The Corellian noted that Luke seemed to be drawn to the females with red-hair, for some unfathomable reason.

Back when the Emperor had unfrozen him, he'd said the galaxy had changed and at this point, Han couldn't agree more. Everywhere Luke went, Han was forced to tag along as his 'Attendant.' Escape was impossible since dozens of stormtroopers surrounded them everywhere they went. And Luke loved the attention of the holo-camera and the holo-shills reporting his every move.

During the day, when the Emperor was supposedly running the galaxy, Han was allowed to sleep. But nights... nights were when things got downright weird ... when the Emperor got his groove on. Together, and always with beautiful and frequently famous women, they would attend vainglory celebrity 'award' holo-shows of every ilk; they would be seen in every trendy and expensive nightclub; drink alcohol until Han thought his head would explode and his liver would shrivel up. (Luke never got drunk, however... due to the limitations of the helmet. The Emperor only sipped alcohol through one of those kiddie-type pink curlicue straws stuck through one of the mask's breathing holes).

And thus was Han's life. Often, they would bring the females back to the Imperial Palace, and Luke would disappear in his bedroom, leaving Han trying to politely explain to 'his' date that he wasn't interested in taking her to his own room, and mentally wondering if Luke took his helmet off in bed. It was hard to shake the image in his mind of Luke making out dressed in full body armor. Surely he'd have to remove at least_ one _part... right?

In the beginning, Luke had questioned Han's refusal to 'entertain' the women in private.

_"Are you having, err, problems with functioning correctly since the carbon freezing?" _Luke had asked, sounding suspiciously similar Threepio at this point.

_"No, Emperor."_

_"Then...? Ah ha!" _Luke had proclaimed, nodding in approval. _"You love my sister! That's just so sweet, Han. Really. When Leia gets here, she'll be so happy you've stayed faithful. Give me a hug, you big lug!"_

Han had tried to grin and not pull back from being embraced by this strange, pint-sized version of Darth Vader.

Currently, however, he was being hugged - and kissed repeatedly - by this big chested blonde with wandering hands. "Hey," Han protested, grabbing her wrist. "Watch what yer doing, sweetheart."

"I'd rather just feel what I'm doing," she purred in his ear.

"ATTENTION!" Emperor Skywalker called out loudly through his amplified respirator, making half the patrons drop their drinks as they quaked in fear, their faces blanched. "I think we need to go find another bar... don't you, Han? This one is starting to bore me."

"Sure, Lord Skywalker," Han yelled back, although it wasn't necessary to shout at this point. Everyone was deathly quiet, hoping the Emperor wouldn't suddenly decide to Force-choke them for entertainment. One could never predict what a demented Dark Lord would do when he was bored.

With the blonde hanging on his arm, Han tagged along behind Emperor Skywalker, shielding his eyes from the glare of the holo-shill's cameras as they left the bar.

* * *

On the other side of the galaxy, in a dusty bar in Mos Eisley...

"Look at that moron," the red-head muttered into her ale as she stared at the holo-viewer. "Does Skywalker really think he's fooling anybody in that costume?"

"Maybe. Who knows?" the dark-haired woman replied. "Check out that tart on Solo's arm. She can't keep her paws off him." She glanced over at a morose, chestnut-colored Wookiee. "Sorry... just an expression." Then she looked back at the holo-viewer, glaring at the Corellian. "I can't believe he'd show up all these years later and not even try to look for me."

"He probably was hiding in the Corporate Sector because you said you loved him," the other woman commented. "That's one word that has a tendency to make men like Solo run far and fast."

The dark-haired woman sighed. "You're probably right."

"I hate him," they both said at once, as the Wookiee roared his agreement.

**THE END**


	40. Bewitched and Bedeviled

**Bewitched and Bedeviled**

Jedi Academy on Yavin IV

Fourteen year-old Jacen Solo folded his arms across his chest, his face a close imitation of his father's scowl. "I don't care what you say. When I get older, I'm going to marry Tenel Ka."

"Jace, how many times do I have to tell you – this is just a passing infatuation," Han argued back, trying to ignore Chewie's warning growl. "I'm not sayin' she ain't cute, but the girl's half Hapan an' half Dathomir witch. It's a bad combination, and I don't know which side is worse – her dim-witted Hapan father or her hot-tempered Dathomir mother." The older man signaled toward his beloved ship. "Help me unload these supplies, and quit fantasying about things that won't ever happen."

"It _will_ happen," Jacen said stubbornly. "You just wait and see."

"Fine. In the meantime, get your rear inside the _Falcon_ and help me an' Chewie unload supplies… Prince Jacen of Hapes," Han teased lightly as he watched his son stalk up the ramp.

*You should not tease him,* Chewie woofed out. *Young humans take first love very seriously.*

"What makes you an expert on human love?" Han asked with a snort.

*I think I could give lectures on the subject,* Chewie replied with a weary groan.

* * *

Standing behind a rock, Tenel Ka was listening, and stricken at Han Solo's cruel words. She couldn't believe he would say those terrible things about her. She always had admired the man, too - after all, he was Jacen's father. He called her father dim-witted, and her mother hot-tempered! _Okay_, she mentally conceded. Maybe her father _was_ a bit dim-witted, but that still didn't give Captain Solo the right to disparage him to Jacen.

Furious, the little red-head stomped off toward her room, trying to think of some way to 'get even' with the Corellian. Tenel Ka felt a bit of guilt as she considered that Master Skywalker would lecture her about the dark side of the Force if he knew how angry she was at his brother-in-law.

She lay down on the soft mattress, trying to put the conversation out of her mind, but it was impossible. Would it _really _be too dark side to get back at Captain Solo - just a _little _bit? Slowly, an idea formed in her mind. Her relatives on Dathomir had taught her a great many things… things that Master Skywalker would frown upon if he only knew. But he didn't know, and what he didn't know didn't hurt him.. right? Tenel Ka got up and walked over to her 'supplies' from Dathomir. Carefully, she took out several leaves and herbs, then ground them up into a fine powder. After a few moments, she spread the mixture on the floor, and shutting her eyes tightly, spoke her incantation.

* * *

"That's the last of the supplies, dad," Jacen yelled out, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he helped the Wookiee lower the last crate onto the repulsor lift. A loud crash could be heard from inside the hold of the old ship. "Dad?" Jacen and Chewie exchanged worried looks when there was no answer, and they both hurried up the ramp.

Han was sitting in the corridor, a dazed expression on his face, his hand clasping his throat. "Dad? Are you choking?" Jacen shouted, running up to his father. Han opened and closed his mouth, but no sound was forthcoming. Quickly, Chewie rushed up to Han and pulled him to his feet, then put his arms around Han's waist and pushed his furry fists into the man's stomach. A loud whoosh of air escaped Han's lungs, and he quickly struggled to escape the Wookiee's powerful, and painful, shoves against his ribcage.

"Can you breathe now?" Jacen asked in concern, noting his father's face was now bright red, and his eyes were watering. "No?" The young man started thumping his father's back – quite hard. "How about now?"

Han twisted around, grabbing Jacen by both wrists, silently yelling at his eldest son, while backing away from his tall partner.

"You're _not _choking?" Jacen asked, watching as his father shook his head. "Why didn't you say so?"

The older man frowned and 'yelled' again, then hurried to his cabin as he clutched his ribs. Jacen and Chewie followed, and watched as Han pulled out a writing stylus and some flimsy. After a moment of scrawling, Han thrust the flimsy at Jacen, who looked at it in concern. "Uh… dad?" He looked up at his annoyed father. "This is nothing but a bunch of scribbles."

Han snatched the flimsy back, and stared at it for a second before writing something additional, then giving it back to his son.

It was only more illegible scribbling. "Dad… I think..." Jacen mumbled. "I think we should go to the med area."

* * *

The medic droid gazed down at the readout. "There is nothing physically wrong with Captain Solo, except for a cracked rib," he intoned, swiveling his head to peer at Chewbacca. "All other results are perfectly normal, except his blood pressure is slightly on the high side." The One-Bee droid watched as the human soundlessly yelled at the guilt-riddled Wookiee, then turned his photoreceptor eyes toward Jedi Master Luke Skywalker and the twin children of Solo. "Considering his agitated emotions, that is not unusual, however."

"Why can't he talk?" Luke asked.

"Or write?" Jaina added.

"Dad always _did_ have messy handwriting," Jacen pointed out to his sister.

"Not like this," Jaina argued, thrusting the squiggles and loops scrawled across the flimsy at Jacen. "It looks worse than a two-year old's handwriting."

This only made Han even more upset, and he jumped off the examine table and grabbed the flimsy from Jacen's hand, wadding it up and throwing away the offending object.

*The medical facilities here are a bit primitive,* Chewie barked out, his blue eyes never leaving his friend. *I will take him back to Coruscant. Perhaps they can figure out his problem.*

"That's a good idea, Chewie," Luke agreed, after listening to Jacen interpret the Wookiee's words. Even after all these years, Luke still found it difficult to understand every word Chewie spoke, but the twins having grown up with Chewie, understood him perfectly. "Do you need me to come with you?"

_NO! _Han mouthed, waving his hands in a negative gesture.

"I think that means, 'no'," Luke grumbled. "Good luck, Chewie. You're going to need it."

* * *

The two day trip back to Coruscant felt like the longest two days in Han Solo's life. Why couldn't Chewie hear him? He could hear _himself_speaking just fine. And he could read the things he wrote down, too. It was like a strange spell had come over everyone on Yavin - on everyone but him, of course, and it was very frustrating. This would all be straightened out as soon as they got to Coruscant. Leia would be able to hear him, and then Chewie would understand the problem wasn't that he couldn't talk - it was that Chewie (and everyone else on Yavin) couldn't HEAR HIM! It probably had something to do with the stupid Force. It seemed to be the bane of his existence. Of course, maybe it was some strange virus, and his Corellian genes made him immune to whatever had affected everyone _else._

When the _Millennium Falcon _dropped out of hyperspace over the heavily populated planet, Han automatically reached over and opened the comlink to the space-traffic controller. Confident the man would be able to hear him, he spoke into the microphone. "This is Captain Han Solo of the _Millennium Falcon _requesting landing clearance to docking port 1138, section 2963."

A male voice came through. "_Unidentified ship, please send your transponder codes_."

"Unidentified?" Han groused out, banging on the panel with his fist. "I just told you who I was!"

*Cub... he doesn't hear you,* Chewie woofed softly and sadly. *And neither do I.*

"Just 'cuz you can't hear me, doesn't mean everyone else can't!"

Sighing, the Wookiee turned on the transponder, sending the proper signal to the Controller. "_Millennium Falcon, you are now identified, and have your clearance to land."_

"Ha!" Han said triumphantly. "I _told _you he heard me."

* * *

Of course, Luke had contacted his sister and warned her about the strange affliction that was affecting Han, but even with the warning Leia was still surprised when Han burst into their home, closely followed by his partner.

*You NEED to go see another medic!* Chewie was roaring at Han, who was stubbornly trying to ignore his friend. *Do not pretend you don't hear me!*

Han spun around, silently mouthing words, and gesturing at the Wookiee. Then he turned to face his wife, his lips moving as he pointed toward Chewie.

"Han?" Leia said clearly. "You need to listen to Chewie, and go see a medic. Maybe you have laryngitis."

*The doctors on Yavin have already ruled out any normal virus that causes loss of speech, Princess,* Chewie woofed out. *And it's not just his speech, but his ability to write, too.*

Luke hadn't relayed that bit of news. "This sounds bad," Leia said worriedly. "Maybe you've had a small stroke. We're going to the clinic, now."

Without being given an option, Han was hustled out of the apartment by Chewie and Leia.

* * *

Hours - and many tests - later, Han and Leia dragged back into their apartment, and Leia entered the refresher. The doctors had performed every test they could think of, and a few they did twice. Dejected, Han sat down on the edge of the bed, putting his head in his hands. At least he was no longer convinced the problem was with other people's hearing. Whatever was wrong, was wrong with him, and that was very depressing. What if he never got better? What if he had to go through his entire life not being understood?

"_I need a drink," _Han muttered silently. He got up, retrieved a writing stylus and a scrap of flimsy, writing down as neatly as possible – _Leia, I had to go get a drink. Don't worry about me, I'll be back in a few hours. _He stared at the note. It looked just fine to him – he could read it perfectly. He placed it on the bed, and left the apartment.

* * *

Leia's frantic voice filled Chewie's comlink. _"Chewie! Han took off, and I don't have any idea where he went. Is he with you?"_

*No…*

"_He left a … a note, I guess, but it's just a bunch of scrawled lines. Why would he leave?"_

*I will go see if I can find him,* Chewie barked, shutting off the comlink. _And when I do, I'm going to shake him until he screams so loud I can actually hear him._

* * *

Not being able to speak had a LOT of drawbacks. Not being able to place a drink order was very high on the list. Instead, Han was forced to_point _at what he wanted, and the bartender was not exactly the intelligent sort.

"YOU WANT A GIZER?" the short, pocked-faced Twi'lek yelled across the counter as he leaned toward Han. "IS THAT RIGHT?"

"_I'm not deaf,_" Han grumbled, backing away from the man's smelly breath.

"A GIZER?"

Glaring at the idiot, Han could only nod and hold up two fingers. One gizer wasn't nearly enough after what he'd been through these past few days.

"**TWO** GIZERS?"

"_YES!" _Han tried screaming back. It wasn't very effective, but at least the moron filled two glasses and nervously pushed them at Han. Snatching up the beverages, Han stalked over to a corner booth, then gulped down one of the mugs without pausing.

Sighing, he shut his eyes and leaned his head back. It was only then did he overhear the person in the next booth.

"I'm tellin' ya, that's what the word on the street is," a smarmy voice was saying to his companion. "The President makes public appearances all th' time. The Organization wants her dead, and what the Organization wants, it gets."

"So who's gonna be the trigger-man?"

"Pro'lly some bounty hunter, a real professional."

"Have you heard when it's going down?"

"In a few days, I heard."

The other man gave a snort. "I ain't never heard anyone tell such tall-tales as you, Bief."

"Are ya callin' me a liar?" 'Bief' said, his voice hostile.

"I'm sayin' you like to make things up, so you sound impress – " The sound of a crash, then both men fell out of the booth, tussling on the dirty floor.

"HEY, YOU TWO!" the bartender shouted from behind the counter. "We don't allow fighting in here!"

"No one calls Bief a liar," Bief grumbled, getting up and glaring down at his 'friend'. Both men hurried out before the Twi'lek called the law.

As he watched the two men leave, Han knew he didn't care about the fight. All he cared about was the possibility that 'The Organization' had hired a bounty hunter to kill his wife.

* * *

Han rushed back home to his wife, his eyes wild, his face flushed, and jumping up and down like he was standing bootless on the hot sand of Tatooine.

"Han? Where have you been?" Leia demanded, forgetting about the small detail that Han couldn't talk. "I've been worried sick about you, and now poor Chewie is out looking for you!"

This declaration was pretty much ignored by Han as he continued to jump around and attempt to speak.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Leia questioned.

Han nodded frantically.

"Are you sick?"

_NO! _he mouthed.

"Well! Don't yell at me!"

Han grabbed his wife's arm, pulling her into the bedroom.

"I hardly think this is the time for that, Han."

Rolling his eyes, Han pointed under the bed's dust ruffle.

"You want me to look under the bed?"

More nodding.

Leia got down on her hands and knees, trying to peer into the dusty gloom under the bed. It was at that point Han tried to push her _under_ the bed. The Princess grabbed at the quilt, pulling it off the mattress. "What do you think you're doing?" She watched, stunned, as Han threw the blanket over her head. "HAN! Have you lost your mind?"

She struggled to her feet, tossing the quilt aside. "If you don't stop this behavior at once," Leia snapped out, "I'll …. I'll have Chewie come over here and sit on you."

*I will sit on him, anyway,* Chewie said from the doorway of their bedroom. *What has gotten into you, cub?*

"Chewie, will you stay here with Han?" Leia pleaded. "I have a speech to give to the Elder-Ladies Free-Star Aide Society Auxiliary Club, and I don't want to leave him alone when he's like this."

Before Chewie could reply, Han's expression grew even more agitated than it already was, and he grasped her arms, shaking his head violently in a negative indication.

*Cub, this has gone on long enough,* Chewie growled, pulling the Corellian away and holding him tightly. *You must let the Princess go to her meeting.*

Han could only watch in despair as Leia left for her date with 'The Organization'.

* * *

Yavin

"Jacen?" Tenel Ka asked quietly, tapping the meditating young man on his shoulder. "Can I talk to you?"

Jacen opened his eyes, and uncrossed his legs. "Sure." He looked up at her worried expression. "What's the matter?"

"I, um, I did something bad," she started out hesitantly. "Master Skywalker is going to be very angry at me."

"What did you do?"

"I'm the reason your father can't talk," she confessed, her face flushing. "I…put a curse on him."

"What?" Jacen shouted, jumping up. "Why would you do that?"

To his utter surprise, Tenel Ka burst into tears. "Captain Solo told you I was a bad combination of a witch with a hot-temper and… and a dim-witted Hapan." She looked up through tear-flecked eye-lashes. "I shouldn't have done it, but I was just so mad…"

"We need to tell Uncle Luke," Jacen said with a sigh. This wasn't going to earn her any points with his father, that was for certain.

* * *

Coruscant

Han needed a plan to escape from the apartment. Unfortunately, wherever he went, the Wookiee was right on his heels. It was frustrating Han to no end, until he finally had an idea. He turned on the holo-vid, and pretended to become engrossed in the smash-ball game. Chewie hated smash-ball, and claimed it was incredibly boring. Long experience had taught Han that the sport acted like a sedative to his shaggy partner, and this time it was no different. Soon the Wookiee's blue eyes grew heavy, and his head began drooping forward. In less than an hour, his mouth dropped open and a loud snore escaped his lips.

Grinning, the Corellian slowly raised the volume on the holo-unit until it was loud enough to cover his exit from the front door. Now, he just had to get to Leia before 'The Organization' did.

* * *

Yavin

Luke had to admit he was impressed with Tenel Ka's talents, even if she used them incorrectly. "Can you undo the spell?"

"I think so," she replied. "It's supposed to wear off in a week anyway, and it's already been three days."

"Still," Luke continued, glad to know what had caused Han's problem. "Another four days is a long time not to be able to communicate. I think you'd better try and fix this. Now."

Tenel Ka nodded, and immediately went to work on her potion.

* * *

Coruscant

Halfway to the Elder-Ladies of Coruscant Free-Star Aide Society Auxiliary meeting, Han's luck finally took a turn for the better. Staggering down the street in his direction was none other than Bief, the loud-mouth drunk. Although Han had only seen the man for a few seconds after the short fight, he was certain the skinny, buck-toothed human was the same man. Without hesitating, he whipped out his blaster and as soon as Bief was next to him, jabbed the barrel into the man's side.

"Hey," Bief complained, his eyes getting wide. "I ain't got no money on me."

With his free hand, the Corellian grabbed the man by the back of his collar, hustling him forward. If Han couldn't talk, he'd make sure this man told his story to the proper authorities.

"Where's ya takin' me?" the man jabbered nervously. "If'n yer kidnappin' me, I got's t' tell ya, there ain't no one gonna give ya a credit fer me."

_I'll bet,_ Han thought sourly, continuing to push the confused man along.

"I'm gonna have ya arrested for unlawfully d'tainin' me."

Han pushed his blaster harder into the man's side.

"How's come yer not talkin'? Is this about the ex-wife? Are ya her new boyfriend? Whatever she told ya, it ain't true. I hardly ever cheated on her, an' she warn't 'sactly faithful an' true ta me, ya know."

_Is this idiot ever going to shut up?_

"Silent sort, eh? Well, can't blame ya, if'n yer goin' with Tacy. That woman's a reg'lar chatterbox. I could never get in a word edge-wise, myself." The man looked up at the fancy building with the gilt-engraved sign over the door. "We're goin' in here? The high falutin' Ladies do-gooder so-ciety? I ain't never known any of them sorts, an' ta tell ya the truth, pal, you ain't lookin' the sort to fit in there, either."

_SHUT UP!_ Han wanted to scream. This had to be the most frustrating experience of his life. He pushed the man inside, then headed for the meeting room. He could hear Leia's voice coming from a loud speaker, and felt a rush of relief that she was still in one piece.

Once inside the large room, Bief let loose with a loud yell, and made a dive under the nearest table, where six blue-haired ladies with ornate hats happened to be sitting. The ladies squealed in horror as the vagrant overturned their pretty table, sending tea-cakes and red wine over their laps.

"Dat der man is tryin' ta kill me!" Bief screamed and pointed at Han, using the table for protection.

By this time, Leia had stopped talking. She could only stare in shock as old women scattered, rushing toward the exits and tripping on chairs. Soon, the room was empty of everyone but Han, Leia, Bief and two ladies that had fainted on the floor. Leia's amplified voice came over the speakers. "Han Solo. What, in the name of all the Goddesses in the galaxy, are you doing?"

Bief looked at Han, surprise written across his smudgy face. "Han Solo? I guess all them rumors about ya being crazy is true."

"I'M NOT CRAZY!" Han shouted, waving his blaster around like a crazy person.

"HAN!" Leia shouted. "You can talk!"

"I can?"

"Yes!"

"Leia! Get down… I overheard this guy telling his friend a bounty hunter had been hired to kill you!"

"I did not!" Bief said indignantly.

"I heard you," Han growled at the man. "You said 'The Organization' had hired a bounty hunter to kill Leia… right before you got in a fight with your buddy."

At first, the man looked totally confused. Then he grinned. "Oh, yeah. I did say sumtin' like dat, I guess."

"Ah ha!" Han turned to his wife. "See? I told you!"

"But ya got it tall wrong, Solo," Bief continued smugly. "Dat's the name of'n a new holo-drama. It's called 'The Organization', and dat's the latest story plot. Them's bad guys hired a bounty-hunter ta knock off the President… but not the _real _President. The President on the holo-show."

"Sith-spit," Han muttered, watching as the local security force came charging in the banquet room.

* * *

Yavin

"I think it's all fixed now," Tenel Ka informed the two men.

Luke nodded. "I'll contact Leia and make sure Han's back to normal."

Tenel Ka sniffed. "Now Captain Solo will _really_ hate me."

Jacen put his hand on her arm. "Only if he finds out." Both young Jedi turned and looked at Luke.

"I don't think keeping secrets is dark side," Luke muttered, grunting as Tenel Ka threw her arms around his neck and gave him a hug.

No one ever mentioned it again.

**THE END**


	41. Close Encounters of the 'Bill' Kind

This short, insane story is set before ANH. (The ending will only make sense to those who have watched 'UFO Hunters' on the History Channel.)

* * *

**Close Encounters of the 'Bill' Kind**

Han Solo leaned forward, peering out of the cockpit window at the white and blue planet far below. "I'm tellin' ya, it wasn't my fault!"

*It never is,* Chewie barked back, annoyed. *Now we've not only dumped the shipment of spice, we're low on fuel, too.*

The exasperated Captain glared at his partner. "How was I to know those Imps would be waiting for us over Coruscant?"

*Imps patrolling Coruscant?* Chewie muttered sarcastically. *What a big surprise. No one would ever expect a Star Destroyer or two hanging around the Capital planet.* The Wookiee waved his hairy arm toward the blue planet. *And where are we, anyway? You were in such a hurry to jump into hyperspace you didn't set any coordinates. We could be anywhere.*

Han looked down at the nav-comp. "I'm not too sure." He ignored Chewie's derisive snort, and quickly added, "We can get back by reversing the numbers. It'll be fine. Trust me."

*What about the low fuel situation?*

"Maybe this planet will have what we need," Han mused, stroking his chin. "They aren't too sophisticated, though."

*They have satellites,* Chewie pointed out.

"Low tech ones," Han insisted. "It'll be easy enough to avoid detection."

*Are there any Wookiees on the planet?* Chewie questioned. *I hate sitting in the ship while you go out and have all the fun.*

Han studied the readouts as the planet got closer. "It looks like there are a few of your relatives, but they seem to be living in the remotest regions of the planet – deep in the woods, or living in the mountain regions. There aren't any Wookiees in the densely populated areas."

*Figures,* Chewie grunted. *My people are always discriminated against by dumb humans.*

"Hey! Watch who you're callin' dumb," Han protested. He veered away from a flying silver tube with flat projectiles jutting out from the sides, waving at the astonished human faces staring out at him from the row of tiny windows, then had the _Falcon_ do a series of flips and spins as he headed to the surface.

*Maybe you shouldn't have gotten that close to their transport, Han,* Chewie growled. *It might have aroused their suspicions that we aren't from these parts.*

"Oh, who cares," Han returned. "It's not like they have a ship fast enough that could possibly catch us." The Corellian pointed to a field. "Let's land there. It's secluded, and it's night, but close enough to a city for an easy walk."

*I still don't think they're going to have the right type of fuel for the _Falcon_. We're probably going to be stuck here the rest of our lives.*

"Stang, what a pessimist," Han said as he gently placed his ship down in the center of the buff-colored field, and lowered the ramp.

In the darkness, they headed out of the ship into the tall stalks of dry vegetation. "What the heck is this stuff?" Han asked, yanking a tube from one of the stems.

Chewie sniffed the object, then peeled back the crackling outer husk. *It appears to be a type of food crop. The farmer isn't going to be happy with us for ruining a portion of his income.*

"Farmer, huh?" Han said thoughtfully. "I wonder if this farmer has a cute daughter."

*The fuel, Han, the fuel. Try to remember we are looking for fuel, not females.*

"Females do get me all fueled up, pal."

*I know, I know,* Chewie woofed sadly as he led the way out of the field.

* * *

They had walked along the dark, narrow road for several klicks, not encountering another being. Finally Chewie spoke, *Are you sure this is the right direction?*

"Of course I'm sure," Han replied. "The town was this way, and besides, I'm Corellian. We can't get lost."

*Oh, yes. How could I forget?* Chewie muttered, shaking his head in disgust.

"Hey!" Han shouted, pointing ahead. "I see some lights heading in this direction. Hopefully it's a hovercar and we can ask them for a ride into town."

*I'm not sure that's a good….*

It was too late. Han was already in the middle of the road, jumping up and down to get the attention of the driver of the oncoming vehicle. Fortunately, the driver saw the crazy man and stopped before hitting him. Han confidentially sauntered up to the vehicle, which was so old-fashioned it actually used wheels. Sitting behind the steering device in the front seat was a young, blond-headed boy and next to him sat a busty girl with copper-hued locks.

"Hey, I ran out of fuel and I sure could use a lift into town," Han said, leaning his elbow onto the edge of the window, and winking at the girl. She smiled back, and then snuggled closer to her boyfriend, while not taking her eyes off Han.

"We're not heading into town," the boy drawled out. "Tough luck for you. Keep hiking, jerk."

"Come on," Han cajoled, patting the top of the vehicle. "This thing looks real fast. You could show me just how impressive the engine is, too."

"We could take him, Steve," the girl cooed while she batted her eyelashes. "It's only a few miles."

"Yeah, Steve," Han prodded. "You could spare a few of those miles and give me and my buddy a ride."

"Buddy? What buddy?"

Han turned and waved toward blackness at the side of the road. "It's alright, Chewie. These nice kids have agreed to give us a lift."

Chewie loped forward into the headlights, and Han turned to the young people as they let out a gasp. He could see shock and fear registering on their faces. "You don't have to be afraid of Chewie. He only looks intimidating."

"IT'S A BIGFOOT!" Steve screeched in horror.

The girl screamed, "GO, STEVE! GO!"

The boy gunned the engine, and the car went lunging forward, forcing Chewie to leap aside to avoid being struck. Han could only watch in disappointment as the red tail-lights disappeared in the distance.

"Why'd ya have to go and scare them off?" Han asked.

*What did I do to scare _them_?* Chewie barked, shaking the dust out of his fur. *They tried to run _me_ over! And what the kriff is so scary about a big foot?*

Han glanced down at Chewie's feet. "Well, your clod-hoppers are sorta on the big side. How was I to know humans are frightened of big feet on this planet?"

*Keep walking,* Chewie grumbled. *Before my big foot gives you a swift kick in your bigger buns.*

"My buns aren't big," Han objected. "Ladies always tell me they're tight and cute."

Chewie rolled his blue eyes. *Whatever.*

* * *

Eventually, the tired pair made it into the small town. By this time almost all of the stores were closed, but a flashing light drew them. Han scratched the top of his head, puzzled. "Seven-Eleven? Do you suppose this is a gambling joint?"

*I haven't got a clue, but you'll have to go inside yourself. I don't want to offend anyone with my gigantic tootsie odor.*

"Good idea," Han agreed. "I'll go check it out, and you stay outta sight."

Han headed into the brightly lit store, and immediately noted he was drawing unwanted attention. People were pointing and hurrying toward the exit. Scowling at the nervous, pasty-faced clerk, Han asked, "What's the matter with everyone in here?"

The flustered clerk swallowed hard. "Is…. is that a, um, loaded gun you're wearing?"

Han glanced down at his right thigh. "It's my blaster, and yeah, it's fully charged. Are you trying to tell me no one wears blasters on this planet?"

"Is this a robbery?" The trembling man held his hands above his head.

Han sighed. "No. All I want to do is purchase some fuel."

"Gas?"

"No, fuel. I don't need an antacid."

The clerk dropped his arms. "Well, we have charcoal, and starter fluid."

"Show it to me."

The thin clerk shuffled around the counter and led Han through the now-empty store to the out-door grilling supplies. "Is this what you need?"

Han waved a small device with a blinking green light over the bags and the cans. The blinking light remained green. "Nope. That won't do. You got anything else?"

The clerk frowned in consideration. "Batteries?"

Han allowed himself to be shown the objects, and waved his meter over the packages. "No. That won't help me, either."

"Are you sure you don't need gas?"

"Positive!" Han yelled back. "I've got enough problems right now, thank you very much!"

"Okay… sorry. I can't think of anything else that would serve as fuel, though."

Han looked around the store. "What about that stuff?" he asked, pointing to rows of colorful bottles and cans.

"Oh, that's not fuel, sir. That's soda-pop. You're not from around these parts, are you?"

"Nowhere even close," Han muttered, walking down the aisle and waving his meter. Suddenly the light started flashing red. "I think I found some!"

The clerk hurried over. "Mountain Dew?" He rubbed the bridge of his thin nose. "That's a beverage. You're supposed to drink it."

Shocked, Han carefully held up a can. "Drink it?! Have you ever read the list of chemicals inside this bottle?"

"No, I haven't."

"That doesn't surprise me," Han stated. "If you read the ingredients, you'd _never_ drink the stuff. Anyway, I need a few cases of this fuel."

"Fine, sir. How will you pay for it? Cash or credit?"

Han pulled out a few cred-chips from his pocket, and handed one to the clerk "Is this enough?"

"That's not even real money!"

"It sure is," Han argued. "I stole it from a rich Imp just a few days ago."

The man thrust the coins back toward Han. "I can take VISA or Mastercard, but not this stuff."

"A veesha …or a what?"

"Credit cards," the clerk replied, getting testy. "You know… plastic. Buy now, pay later."

"Then that's my choice," Han said as he picked up several cartons. "I'll pay later."

"No, you don't understand…."

"Understand this," Han said, dropping a carton and pulling out his blaster as he thrust it under the clerks nose. "I'm paying later."

"F….fine. Pay later, then." The man backed off, his eyes wide with fear.

Han hoisted up a few boxes and staggered out of the door. "Hey, Chewie! This stuff is heavy. I could use some help."

The Wookiee appeared out of the shadows and took one of the cartons from his partner. *Are you sure this will work? There isn't very much here.*

"But it's powerful stuff," Han advised his friend. "The meter was off the charts, so don't drop it. The guy inside said people on this planet actually drink the stuff, can you believe it?"

Suddenly, a loud alarm went off inside the building, and the clerk came running outside shouting, "Robbery! I've been robbed!" He skidded to a stop upon seeing Han and Chewie still standing in the parking lot with their cases of 'loot'. "Oh my dear sweet soul! It's a Big Foot!"

"Hurry, Chewie," Han urged. "He might've called some security types for back-up."

*These people really have a foot fetish, don't they?*

* * *

It was a much harder trip back to the _Millennium Falcon_, since they were both weighed down with heavy cartons of 'soda-pop fuel', and there seemed to be a significant increase in the local traffic. Vehicles with blue and red lights flashing overhead rushed around, forcing Han and Chewie to take cover in the thorny bushes and in muddy ditches. Eventually they entered the field where their precious ship was patiently waiting.

"You go inside and I'll pour the fuel into the ship, pal," a weary Han told his partner. Chewie nodded tiredly, leaving Han outside to figure out a way to open the fuel cans. Suddenly, a loud roar sounded from inside the ship. "What's the matter?" Han shouted as he dropped the can and, blaster drawn, rushed up the ramp.

Inside the main hold, Chewie stood holding two struggling men off the ground by their collars. The older of the two men wore some type of wire object that held two dark sections of glass across his face, his eyes obscured by this dark glass. The second man, taller and younger, appeared on the verge of passing out.

*I found these two snooping around!* Chewie roared indignantly.

"Why didn't you remember to put up the ramp?" Han demanded.

*Why didn't you?*

"I was busy thinking of a plan to get off this dirt ball," Han said defensively. ""Sides, putting up the ramp is your job."

*Since when?*

"Since I'm the Captain, and I what I say, goes!"

"Excuse me," the younger man gasped out. "Could your Big Foot please put us down now?"

*I do NOT have big feet!* Chewie roared, shaking the two men by their necks.

"You made him mad, Pat," the older man stated calmly. "Try not to make the beast mad."

"Okay, Bill," 'Pat' gurgled out.

Chewie looked at Han, and Han shrugged. "Put them down, Chewie. If they try anything, I'll blast 'em."

"I'm sure that won't be necessary," 'Bill' the older man said, adjusting his leather jacket after being set on his feet. "Did I hear you say you wanted to leave this 'dirt ball'? Does that mean what I think it means, and you're not from this dirt ball?"

"No, we're not," Han replied, keeping his blaster aimed at the man. "What's that on your face?"

"Sunglasses."

"It's night," Han pointed out. "Why do you need to shade your eyes in the dark?"

"I like wearing them," 'Bill' responded hotly. "So sue me."

"What are you doing inside my ship?"

"First, let me introduce myself. My name is Bill Dyrnes, and this is my partner, Pat Upchuck. We go around the world trying to prove the existence of UFO's, and this is the first time we've actually had the opportunity to see inside an actual spaceship! It's so exciting that my partner Pat would like to hurl, wouldn't you, Pat?"

Pat glared at Bill, then nodded toward Chewie. "We had no idea Big Foots were aliens, although it does make sense, now that I think about it." Pat hit his forehead with this palm, making Han wince. "How else could Big Foots have avoided detection all these years? They come and go in spaceships, of course!"

"The question remains…" Bill leaned in closer to Han, "is that you look nothing like an alien. Does that skin peel off and reveal a gray, big eyed creature lurking under the handsome, human façade? And do you resent the fact that so many of your kind are kept on ice by a secret branch of the United States Government – a branch so secret that the President himself has no idea it exists - in Area 51?"

"Huh?" Han backed up, putting a safer distance between himself and Bill. "Who are you calling handsome? I don't like it when men call me handsome. It makes my trigger finger get all twitchy."

"Maybe he's not an alien at all," Bill mused, still pointing at Han. "Maybe he's a Man In Black, and he's working at trying to get this alien Big Foot to spill the beans about invading Earth. It would be just like a Man In Black to go undercover by not wearing a black suit at all, especially if they think we're onto them."

"We should get some evidence of this find, Bill," Pat said eagerly. "Before that darn MonsterQuest finds out and upstages us."

"Yeah," Bill agreed with a nod. "No question this will send our ratings through the roof. We might even beat out Bridezillas."

"Listen," Han said, irked. "I don't have a clue what you fellows are talkin' about, but I've got to finish fueling up my ship. Then I'm leaving this weird planet and I ain't never coming back."

"They always come back," Bill said knowingly.

"You're crazy," Han declared.

"Men In Black always claim I'm crazy. It helps them keep the world in the dark." He touched his sunglasses and smiled.

"Bring 'em outside, Chewie," Han ordered as the Wookiee gave both men a hard shove.

Once outside, Han thrust one of the cans of soda pop at Pat. "How does this thing open up?"

Pat stared at the soda can, then popped the aluminum ring. The can fizzed, and some of the yellow liquid gushed out.

"Watch it," Han yelled, backing up. "That stuff is dangerous."

"It is?" Pat asked in surprise.

Cautiously Han took the open can from Pat, and then poured it into a small opening on the side of his ship. Under Chewie's watchful eye, both men opened the cans and handed them to Han, while Han continue to pour the fizzing bubbling liquid into his ship. Eventually, all the cans were emptied, and Han turned to the strange men.

"We're going now, and don't try to follow us, either," Han warned.

"Of course not," Pat said.

Chewie gave a loud bellow and showed his fangs, amused when the men ran away. *Let's get out of this crazy place, Han.*

"I couldn't agree with you more, pal," Han said, following his friend up the ramp.

The _Millennium Falcon_ lifted in the night sky, and quickly disappeared in the darkness. Only then did Bill and Pat venture back and stand on the circle of flattened corn.

"The truth is out there," Pat added in a whisper. "I just never thought we'd find it in a cornfield in Iowa."

Bill picked up an empty can and stroked his chin in contemplation. "Mountain Dew and Big Foot…of course. I knew both of them came from an advanced society. Let's see if MonsterQuest can top us now."

**THE END**


	42. Going to the Chapel of Love

Reporter's 'introduction' written by **brodiew**

**Going to the Chapel of** **Love**

"_Princess Leia Organa, Hero of the Rebellion, and close advisor to Chief of State Mon Mothma has recently brokered a deal with the Hapes Consortium to bring them into the New Republic. This is a great victory for Leia and the newly instituted government._

_It has been said that Prince Isolder had come from the isolationist cluster of planets to offer a deal of his own: marriage with Organa in exchange for a mutually advantageous treaty. When the Princess left with him to return to Hapes, her constant companion, General Han Solo, resigned his commission with the New Republic and temporarily fell from public sight._

_Until lately, that is! Solo has been seen in Coronet City on Corellia with a beautiful blonde on his arm. It's obvious that he's not wasting time pining over the Princess. Though the new woman in his life is a looker, she's no Royal Princess, that's for sure!_

_In fact, the former smuggler is going to marry his new love, and word has it the wedding will take place in a mere three days! Things are moving a little fast in this reporter's opinion. I think the former General needs a little more time 'Solo' before jumping into a binding contract._

_Needless to say, any potential wedding bells for Solo and the Princess have forever been silenced. This is Candy Cotavo reporting for Corellia Now!"_

* * *

The holo shots behind the breathless and busty Twi'lek sludgenews reporter had a scene of Han and his new 'love' as they entered a trendy diner, and another scene showed Han with his new fiancée at a smashball game, rooting for the hometown team.

Back on Coruscant, Leia stared in disbelief at the holo-screen, which had moved on to the next 'newsworthy' story and was now showing two second-rate actors having a fistfight over a married actress. "Han's engaged? To be married?"

Her brother, Luke Skywalker, cleared his throat nervously. "Well, you did sorta dump him."

The Princess spun on her toe to face her brother, brown eyes flashing. "It was temporary! I never intended to actually marry Isolder!"

"Is that what you told Han?"

"I tried to tell him," Leia spluttered out. "He wasn't listening."

"Okay," Luke tried to placate his sister. "What, exactly, did you say the last time you saw Han?"

"Um, well…"

"That clears things right up," Luke said, nodding.

"I told him to, I think, 'have a nice life,' if I recall correctly."

"I can _totally_ see how he wouldn't be able to misunderstand that."

"Oh, shut up," Leia snapped. "I never thought he'd run right out and find himself another woman! Did I mean nothing to him?"

"He could ask you the same thing."

"Whose side are you on?" Leia yelled at her brother.

"I'd like to think I'm on both your sides," Luke stated.

"She isn't even very pretty," Leia complained, glancing back at the holo-set. "She's a fake blonde, has big bazookas, and she wears way too much makeup! What does he see in her?"

"Uh, her bazookas?"

"One more word out of you, and I'm going to kill you, Luke Skywalker!" Leia threatened. "What's wrong with my assets, anyway?"

Luke pondered whether he should say 'one more word' and answer that dangerous question, or remain silent.

"WELL?" Leia yelled, her face flushing with anger. "Are you going to answer me, or not?"

"Really, I'd rather not," Luke said, fidgeting as he stared at the floor. "You are my sister, after all. I'm not supposed to be noticing your bazookas _or_ your assets."

Leia let out an unladylike snort. "The fact that I'm your sister didn't stop you from kissing me."

"YOU kissed ME!" Luke protested. "Every single time, too!"

"No one likes a goody-two-shoes, know-it-all," Leia snapped back, then buried her face in her hands, and mumbled, "What am I going to do? I made the worst judgment call in my life, and now my soul mate is about to marry another woman."

"Have you tried to contact him on the _Falcon_?"

"Yes," Leia replied. "He's changed his incoming codes, and my message can't get through."

"His wedding isn't for three days," Luke pointed out thoughtfully. "If we hurry, we should arrive on Corellia a few hours before the wedding."

"Then what?" Leia questioned suspiciously.

"Then I'd say we crash the wedding, and put a stop to the worst mistake Han will ever make. And considering all the mistakes he's made, that's saying quite a lot."

"Maybe he truly loves her," Leia moaned. "And if we interrupt his big day, he'll have Chewie rip our arms off."

Luke shrugged. "I'm willing to take that chance. Are you?"

The former Princess of Alderaan smiled for the first time that day. "You can bet your last lightsaber!"

"I'd rather not," Luke said dryly. "It might come in handy when we get to Corellia."

* * *

Three days later…

Coronet City  
House of Love Wedding Chapel

Han paced the small, musky-smelling Official Groom's Waiting Room, and tried craning his neck to see inside the chapel through the narrow window. "How many more beings are in line before it's my turn?"

*Three, I think,* Chewie growled out as the off-key accordion music could be heard filtering in through the closed doorway. *You still have time to run, Cub.*

"Why would I want to do that?" Han asked, still pacing. "Charlevoix is the love of my life."

*What the heck kind of name is Charlevoix Toddy, anyway?*

"It's classy," Han said defensively. "And exotic."

*And that's because she's an exotic dancer?*

"She _was_ an exotic dancer," Han snapped. "She's retired."

*She retired last week, after you proposed!* Chewie howled in protest. *She'd still be shaking her groove-thangs if she hadn't gotten you drunk that night!*

"Will you keep it down?" Han hissed. "She'll hear you!"

*What would that matter?* Chewie roared out. *She can't understand Shyriiwook! She can barely understand Basic on a good day!*

"She can, too," Han responded petulantly.

*Only the really little words.*

"What do you want me to do?" Han shouted, suddenly unconcerned about being overheard. "Spend the rest of my life all alone? Knowing that half the galaxy is feeling sorry that I was dumped by the Ice Princess, while the other half is laughing at me for thinking I ever had a chance with her to start with?"

*I doubt the galaxy spends as much time thinking about you as you would like to believe,* Chewie pointed out.

"I don't care," Han said stubbornly. "I'm getting hitched before her Royal Shortness does, and that's that."

*So _that's_ the real reason? You're doing this to 'show' Leia you can find someone to marry you, before she marries Prince Isolder?*

Han put his hands to his ears. "Don't' say that… that pompous kriff-sackers name out loud!"

*Do you love Charliemange Tootie?*

"It's Charlevoix Toddy, and yes, I do love her."

*Liar.*

"Well, she loves me, and that's good enough," Han said.

*She loves all the holo-reporters attention she's getting by marrying the infamous Han Solo. What happens when that attention fades away? Or you finally wake up one bright morning and look over at that mangy Charlie and realize that you don't even like her, much less love her?*

Han glared at his friend, and shook his head. "That won't happen," he said unconvincingly.

A knock on the door startled them. "It's time," the proprietor's voice could be heard through the door. "Your lovely bride awaits!"

Chewie shook his shaggy head. *Charliemangy is only lovely if you have one-forty vision and fogged up spectacles.*

Walking out the door, Han resolutely ignored his long-time friend's words of advice.

* * *

"Can't this thing go any faster?" Leia complained to Luke as they tore through the back streets on Coronet.

"I'm driving as fast as possible," Luke retorted. "It's not my fault we were stuck in a traffic jam!"

Leia glanced out the window, feeling frantic. "The wedding is in less than an hour! We'll never make it at this rate."

"Have faith, Leia," Luke said, trying to calm his sister. "The Force is with us."

"Um, Luke? Which force are you talking about?"

"What?"

Leia pointed to the rearview mirror. "I thought maybe you were referring to the local traffic patrol force. They're trying to tell us to pull over."

"We should probably do that."

"Luke?"

"Yes?"

"If you pull over now, I really will have to kill you."

Luke gave a groan, and pressed down harder on the accelerator.

* * *

The small wedding room, which had been empty when Han looked out a few moments ago, was now crammed tightly with sludgenews holo-reporters and bright lights. "Smile, General Solo!" a Bothan called out.

"Look over this way!" a Sullust screamed loudly as he pointed his holo-cam in Han's face.

"Can I get an exclusive interview after the ceremony with you and your beautiful fiancée?" Candy Cotavo, the reporter from '_Corellia Now'_, shouted over the melee. "My employer is willing to pay!"

Han felt his head spinning. "What are you sleazebags doing here? Who invited you?"

"Charlevoix invited us!" the Bothan replied happily, waving a flimsy under Han's nose.

Han snatched the offending flimsy away from the being, and read the hand-printed words.

_You all are well come to see my spesshal wedding day! Just show up at two three days from to-day at Howse o' Love Wedding Chapal._

_Sinseerly, Charlevoix!_

Looking over Han's shoulder, Chewie commented, *She spelled her own name right. I'm really impressed.*

Han threw the flimsy on the floor. "Just play the damn music, and let's get this over with."

Chewie slapped Han on his back hard enough that Han staggered a few paces backwards. *_That's_ the proper attitude to have on the most memorable day of your life!*

Tossing a glare at his partner, Han pushed his way past the mass of reporters. While the most annoying instrument in the galaxy mangled the ancient _Corellian Wedding March, _the former General tromped up to the podium where his beaming bride stood holding a bouquet of bright purple and pink vine-trail blossoms, which clashed nicely with her apricot colored, very low-cut, frilly floor-length gown. A spray of red and green flowers decorated her bouffant hairdo, and a long, cream-colored veil trailed down the center of her open-backed dress.

"Hi'ya, Hannie," Charlevoix said in her unmistakably nasally voice. "I was wonderin' what was takin' ya so long."

"Yeah, well, I'm here," Han groused, giving his head a jerk back toward the reporters. "Why did you have to go and invite _them?_"

"Cuz we're famous, honeybunches," Charlevoix explained, rolling her eyes at his daftness. "Famous people need to get looked at, a lot." She twirled around as the holo-reporters snapped away. "How'd ya like my dress? It's an original. Cost a bundle, too."

"It's great," Han muttered, embarrassed at her overt display toward the reporters' holo-cams. "Can we just get on with this?"

"Sure thing," Charlevoix giggled, and waved for the Officiate to move to the podium.

Han's eyes nearly fell out when he saw the man, dressed in a sparkling, neon green, skintight jumpsuit, embellished with a wide belt that had flashing gold lights in the buckle, and topped off with a glittering gold cape. The man put every costume Lando Calrissian ever owned to utter shame. His eyes were shaded with dark, wrap-around sequined sunglasses, and he had more hair piled up on top of his head than Chewie had on his entire body. "Who the hell is that?"

"That's the Official Wedding Marshall of the House of Love Wedding Chapel," Charlevoix explained with an impatient sigh. "Don't ya know nuttin?"

*Yeah, Han, don't you know nuttin?* Chewie asked innocently.

"But… but what's he supposed to _be_?"

"An 'Alvin the Galaxy's Greatest Greaser' impersonator!" Charlevoix squealed. "Don't ya know who Alvin was? My mom just loved Alvin, until the day he died, and even lots afterwards, too. But, then again, lots of folks say he's still alive and shakin' them sexy hips. I once heard that he lives undercover as a short-order cook on Kamino. You really _don't_ know nuttin'!"

Han rubbed his forehead. "I'm getting a headache."

*And a well-deserved headache it is, too, * Chewie commented. *I strongly suspect you will blessed with many more in the future, as well. *

"Smart- "

"Are we ready to proceed?" Alvin interrupted. "I've got six more weddings to do before closing time, and you're putting me behind schedule."

"We sure are ready," Charlevoix piped up. "Hurry up, and start shakin' them thar hips, Alvin."

"I don't do my singing performance until _after_ the 'I Do's,'" Alvin said firmly as he wagged his finger at his customer. He cleared his throat, and spoke loudly so the entire packed audience could hear him. "We are assembled today to join this man and this woman in a Formal Corellian Matrimonial Contract."

Charlevoix clapped enthusiastically, and the crowd hooted their approval.

Alvin frowned at the interruption, but continued on, "Now," he paused, looking at his notes before proceeding, "Charlevoix Toddy, formerly known by her stage name as Hotty Toddy, please say your personal hunka-hunka love commitment vows to Han Solo."

"Ok!" Charlevoix said with a laugh as she turned to face Han. "Honey, I've loved you for years, even though I just met you a few short weeks ago. I would swoon and swoon over them holos of you, and I was just so frosted when that nasty shrew princess left you high an' dry." She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Although, I can see the reason. Really, who wouldn't agree to marry that drop-dead hunky Prince? I'll bet he's loaded, too."

Alvin coughed nervously as the room grew rather quiet and still, and everyone's eyes focused worriedly on the former General. Han said nothing, although his face was flaming red at this point.

"Anywho," Charlevoix prattled on, "a rich prince will never come swoopin' out of the blue to whisk me away, so marryin' you will be the next best thing, won't it?"

"Is that all?" Alvin questioned, rubbing his belt buckle.

"Sure is!"

"Alright, then. Thank you. Thank you very much. You can go next, Han Solo, and speak your hunka-hunka love vows to, um, your sweet mama, Charlevoix, the Hotty Toddy."

"Err," Han started out eloquently. "I… I appreciated the fact that you accepted my proposal, Charlevoix. I think we might be able to make each other happy."

*If hell freezes over,* Chewie woofed quietly.

"So, if anyone objects to this Formal Union, please give a letter to the postman, and send it Special D, if you know what I mean," Alvin said, lowering his shades with one hand and giving a wink to the assembled crowd. "Listen to that. I heard a siren coming down the road, and now it stopped right out front. You two must be so popular, you're gonna need a security patrol escort just to get out of here."

"Did you arrange an escort, Han? For little ole me?" Charlevoix cooed.

"Uh, no."

"Do you, Charlevoix Toddy, formerly known as Hotty Toddy, take this man as your legally binding husband?" Alvin asked.

"I sure do, Sugarlips," Charlevoix said, smiling at Alvin.

"I'm not certain it's entirely appropriate to call the Official Wedding Marshall 'Sugarlips,'" Alvin chided, glancing down at the blaster strapped to Han's thigh. "Do you, Han Solo, take Charlevoix Toddy as your legally binding wife?"

Chewie kicked Han in the ankle. Hard. "OW! Dammit!" Han yelled, grabbing his foot. "That hurt."

*Just trying to help.*

"Now, with all the legal Corellian Powers invested in me -" Alvin started to say.

A loud crash sounded from the back of the room, and a frantic shout parted the crowd. "WAIT! I OBJECT!"

Han was barely able to comprehend what he was seeing. "Leia? Luke? What in the Seven Hells are you doing here?"

The Princess and the Jedi pushed their way forward, ignoring the flashing lights and the shouted questions from the reporters.

"That's your Princess?" Charlevoix questioned, looking at Leia disdainfully. "I've got a lot more where it counts than she does, let me tell you."

"Yes, it's me!" Leia shouted toward the podium. "There is no way you're marrying that… that female!"

"I'm not?" Han asked, confused.

"Not as long as I'm alive and breathing, you Nerf!"

"Why aren't you on Hapes?"

"I never intended to marry that Prince!" Leia blinked back tears. "I've been a fool, Han. Can you forgive me?"

The traffic-enforcement Officer interrupted Han's reply as he rushed into the already over-crowded room. "You two! Stay right there! You're under arrest!"

Luke moved between Leia and the Officer. "You have the wrong people."

"I most certainly do not! I followed both of you right up to this Wedding Chapel!" The Officer gazed around the room. "I'll have to check, but I think this building is over the allowable legal limit for occupancy. That'd be another big fine."

Trying again, Luke waved his hand in front of the man's face. "You lost your way, and it wasn't our speeder you were following."

The Officer blinked, suddenly looking dazed. "It wasn't your speeder I was following."

"You only stopped to get a doonut and kaffe."

"I only stopped to get a doonut and kaffe."

Luke smiled. "The doonut shop is across the street."

The Officer nodded. "Yes. Thank you. I'll be on my way, now. Those doonuts don't wait, you know." With that, he wandered off, confused.

"Hey, that was keen-o," Charlevoix said. "Can you do that again?"

"Sure," Luke said agreeably as he walked up to Charlevoix. "You really took a shine to the Traffic Security Officer, and a doonut sounds very good right now."

Charlevoix's eyes, heavily lined with bright blue mascara, widened. "That officer was dang cute. I think I'd like to eat a doonut with him." She took a few steps down to the aisle, and turned to look up at Han. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all," Han said happily, taking a credit chip out of his wallet. "Buy the guy a dozen, on me."

"Thanks, Hannie. You're the bestest." Charlevoix skipped down the aisle, ignoring the holo-reporters' shouted questions about her unfinished wedding. Near the doorway, she flung the bouquet over her shoulder, and left without looking to see if anyone caught it.

But someone _did _catch it, and Leia seemed surprised that the flowers were suddenly in her grasp. Then she walked up the steps, and took Han's hand. "You didn't have a chance to answer me. Do you forgive me?"

"I do," Han said solemnly.

And as the lights from the holo-cams flashed brightly, they kissed.

**THE END**


End file.
